Mad World
by Susan strong
Summary: She knew him—or...maybe not. She didn't know. His eyes...there was something about his eyes that was familiar! But...she could be wrong about that, too. She didn't want to be wrong about that—but she couldn't remember anything. Everything she was had been taken from her, and she knew that if she didn't complete her mission, HYDRA would have her killed.
1. Chapter 1

**1**

When she had been taken out of her chamber, where she had remained frozen, the remaining HYDRA operatives informed her of the situation. Captain Rogers had foiled their plan with Operation Insight, Pierce had been killed, and now HYDRA's _best_ assassin was on the run. All HYDRA had left was _her_ —their Angel of Death. Whenever the Winter Soldier had been on ice, she would occasionally be brought out to handle a few missions for him, and she certainly lived up to her name. Her hair was a golden, honey brown that ended in loose curls at her waist; years of intense training and a few... _additives_ gave her the perfect figure for someone in her position; throw in smooth pale skin and hazel eyes—one would mistake her for being harmless. She didn't look like she could hurt a fly. _That_ made her deadly—her fake innocence. If a mission ever called for her to go face-to-face with a target, she'd pull out that innocent front and lure the victim to where they'd be killed and then she'd properly dispose of the body.

But that was only when she was needed. Their Soldier had been used for a majority of HYDRA's missions. It had been a rule put in place by Pierce that the Winter Soldier and their Angel would never be out at the same time—Pierce's logic being that if anything happened to HYDRA, they couldn't afford anything happening to their greatest weapons.

With the Winter Soldier gone, the Angel of Death had to go retrieve him—she had been told of the consequences of returning empty-handed.

"How do you expect me to bring him back if I do not know what he looks like?" she asked, sounding void and almost robotic.

The operatives looked at each other.

"You'll know when you see him," an operative with a thick German accent said.

"He's just as skilled as you," another one informed. "He'll more than likely be in a disguise, so keep a close eye out."

"We don't need to worry about her," the German-accented agent scoffed. "She's always had sharp vision."

"So does he."

"Do you want him brought back dead or alive?" she asked.

"Alive," another operative snapped. "Why would we want one of our _best_ assassins killed?"

"He wouldn't be able to tell she worked for HYDRA from a mile away."

"He'd know alright."

Their Angel of Death was handed the last of her weapons, where she concealed it under her clothes. The remaining operatives weren't sure when the whole idea started, but since she had been dubbed that codename and she pretty much looked like a lethal angel, they chose to give her clothes that made her look normal to the ordinary person. When it came to the Winter Soldier, he was suited for more long range attacks in most circumstances. Because of his metal arm, and with the way he looked, people would be able to guess that he was dangerous, with _her_ , they wouldn't be able to tell.

"Remember, Angel," the German-accented operative said slowly, "we need our Soldier back _alive_."

"I still don't think this is a good idea," one muttered.

"It's best he be brought back to us," another snapped. "With everything that's happened, we can't afford to have him running wild."

"So we send _her_? Do you remember what Pierce said?"

"Shut up! That's classified—we know the risks, but we're low on options."

Her hazel eyes observed the operatives closely—they were hiding something, that much was obvious. She had never gone on a mission with the Soldier, at least from what she could remember, and it was very little. She could only remember what was deemed worthy of remembering, and not once was the Winter Soldier in her appropriately deemed memories.

"We're wasting time," an operative snarled. "The longer we stand here _arguing_ , the further he gets."

"He's right. She needs to go."

"Well," the German operative smirked, "it seems like it's time for you to go, Angel. You know what will happen if you fail us."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I hope you all liked this first chapter. Obviously, it's set after 'Winter Soldier'. This is a Bucky/OC, but it might take a while to develop any kind of romances. The further the story progresses, the more everything will be explained.**

 **Captain America isn't mine. The movies and the comics belong to Marvel, I just own my OC's and my fillers.**

 **This is my first Captain America story, so I hope you guys can help me through this. Please have some patience with me.**

 **Leave a helpful and kind review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

She carefully walked through the streets of DC. She could see the wreckage from what had occurred with the Helicarriers, she could see the civilians with looks of pure terror still written on their faces, she could see a community struggling to understand what happened. Operation Insight had been HYDRA's way of controlling everything, with the sleeper agents manipulating SHIELD, everything would have gone according to plan if Captain Rogers hadn't ruined everything. Word was out that he wasn't alone either—he had been assisted by one of his Avenger companions and a civilian with some special kind of technology. Either way, Operation Insight had been ruined; all the information on SHIELD's database had been leaked onto the internet; everything had been revealed. And if everything had been revealed, then chances are she'd have to be more careful than she thought.

So as she walked through DC, her strapless white sundress swishing around as she carefully walked through the crowds of terrified people, she made sure to keep a _very_ close eye out for the Winter Soldier.

 _'You'll know when you see him.'_

Was there a double-meaning behind that German operative's words? It felt like there was. Was she _supposed_ to know him? She didn't know anything about the Soldier—she didn't know what he looked like; she didn't know any kind of background information; she knew absolutely nothing. But all she knew was that she'd _'know when she saw him'_. But how long was she supposed to find him? She had never been out of her cryo for long periods of time—was there some kind of time limit she was going by? They never told her.

The Angel of Death followed her orders, and if she was not given specific orders to follow, she had little to go by.

 _'So we send her? Do you remember what Pierce said?'_

Pierce...the name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite figure out why. But what had Pierce said about her? Was there something he was supposed to tell her before he got killed?

She shook her head. Why was she focusing on what the _operatives_ said? They never had to do the really dirty work. They were replaceable, she wasn't. At least, she didn't think so.

* * *

She had stopped to look at the building in front of her. Standing for fifteen minutes, her calculating hazel eyes studying every detail of the building. The Captain America Museum. Why had she stopped there? Why was she drawn to it? There was no valuable information in the Museum—it was a memorial for a man who thought he could change the world. A shrine for ignorant civilians to admire the dead men who followed Captain America.

But why was she still standing there?

Carefully, she walked up the steps and walked into the Museum. It had remained untouched from the Helicarriers. There were groups of people who were walking around, observing the pictures, listening to the prerecorded information on the fallen soldiers, wasting their time admiring the dead.

But she wasn't there to focus on the Museum's artifacts. She made it seem like she was observing what the Museum had to offer, but she was carefully looking through the crowds of people who had sought refuge in the Museum, she tried to see if there were any men who seemed out-of-the-ordinary. Were they acting skittish? A majority of the people were, after what happened. Was there anyone wearing a disguise? Was someone acting shifty?

 _'You'll know when you see him.'_

It was harder than she thought. They said he was just as good of an assassin as her; which probably means he's good at concealing himself.

She pursed her lipstick stained lips.

 _'Shut up! That's classified—we know the risks, but we're low on options.'_

Her eyes narrowed a little. HYDRA had its secrets, there was nothing new there, but there was classified information against her? She clenched and unclenched her fists.

Something moved out of the corner of her eyes. Turning, she gracefully moved her way through the crowds of people to follow the movement. Scanning for any sign of that movement, she briefly scanned the monument of one of Captain America's fallen comrades. A brief sensation swept through her before disappearing. The fallen comrade's appearance would make him come across as attractive in his time, but there was something else. There was something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she couldn't know for sure. Was there a reason for this?

Her hazel eyes narrowed slightly.

What was that sensation that went through her? Was it a feeling of familiarity? She quickly looked away. She couldn't afford to get distracted, it wasn't like her to _get_ distracted.

She saw the movement again and quickly followed it. She could see the figure through the crowds of people—a tall man wearing a hat and layers of jackets. That was what she could see from her distance.

 _'You'll know when you see him.'_

The Angel's lips thinned. The way he looked, from the way he was acting in the split second she had seen him, she _knew_ that was him. His movements were fluid, he was hiding something, he _knew_ something.

* * *

She followed him from a safe distance through the Museum. He was observing the artifacts, observing the people, keeping his distance. She knew at that point he was the Soldier. He held himself with the air of someone who's fought and killed before. His attempt at a disguise seemed to go well when it came to the civilians—they didn't give him a second glance.

The Angel knew that she wouldn't be able to take him back with so many civilians around—he'd put up a fight and certainly countless civilians would die. She'd have to figure out a way to get him away from the people, and then she'd get him back to HYDRA.

When he turned around to go in another direction, she lowered her eyes slightly, so it wouldn't be so obvious she was watching him. She felt herself tense up when she saw his face under the baseball cap. He looked exactly like the fallen comrade of Captain America—that man she couldn't shake the feeling that occurred from earlier.

His face was starting to show a shadow of stubble, his long hair was swept back so the baseball cap could hide his appearance. Her eyes saw is icy blue ones searching the area before looking in her direction.

She looked down. After waiting a minute, she looked up and he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

She turned and left the Museum. She couldn't afford to waste her time in that place, she had visual on her target, but she let him get away. As she left the Museum, she kept a sharp eye out for the Soldier. He had to be somewhere—he couldn't have gotten very far. Despite what those operatives had said about him, there was something keeping him in DC, and she was going to ensure he _stayed_.

It didn't take long before she felt as if someone was watching her.

When there was an opening to an alleyway between two buildings, she felt something grab her arm and yank her in. Though the grip on her arm was painful, she didn't show it—the Angel had endured pain more intense than that.

"You're following me." Icy blue eyes met with her hazel ones. The Soldier's face was expressionless as he observed her. She made sure she was just as blank as he was. "Why are you following me?"

She didn't say anything.

His eyes narrowed. "I could kill you right now."

"Your method of intimidation won't work on me," she said, sounding almost robotic. "I've faced targets with more height and muscle on them compared to you—if you wish to intimidate me, you'll have to do better."

"You're with HYDRA." He let go of her.

"You are requested to return to HYDRA immediately," she informed. "That is my mission."

The Soldier backed up, his eyes not leaving hers. His breathing was becoming erratic, his long hair was starting to fall in front of his face.

"I can't go back there," he growled.

"Failure to return the Winter Soldier will result in the termination of the Angel," she informed.

The Soldier's icy blue eyes studied her carefully. He could see something in her eyes suggesting she had been with HYDRA probably as long as he had, which he couldn't understand—he'd never seen her before. Or...he didn't remember ever seeing her before. His mind was a jumble of things he was trying to understand. His breathing picked up. There was something about her, something about her was sparking something, maybe resurfacing what might be a memory or something he probably wasn't ready to deal with yet.

"What do you know about me?" he seethed.

Her hazel eyes were unwavering. He had already taken in her appearance—the way her big eyes looked up at him, he could sense her strength through that fragile façade she put up, how that white sundress seemed to hold onto her figure, the way her golden, honey brown hair framed her face made her look innocent—it was her hair, wasn't it? _That_ was what was sparking that something. Her hair was causing something to stir in him.

"You are requested to return to HYDRA."

His lips thinned.

"They want you to bring me back," he growled, his voice lowering an octave. "They want to make me..." He backed up a little. What was he planning to do? He knew for certain he wasn't going back to HYDRA. This woman, who couldn't be just a year or two younger than him—however old he was—was telling him to rejoin HYDRA, but he'd never heard of her before. Or if he had, those routine memory wipes eliminated her from his memory. "How do you know who I am if I never met you?" he hissed.

"Before today, I had no idea you even existed." The Angel's hazel eyes didn't leave his form for a moment. "It wasn't until I was taken out of my chamber that I was told of you." The Angel's eyes studied him. "Your rebelliousness...where does this come from?"

The Soldier's icy blue eyes snapped to her in an instant. She didn't flinch under his intense gaze.

"I'm not the Winter Soldier," he murmured, a dark tone still underlining his voice. "I don't belong to HYDRA."

She frowned.

"If you claim to not be the Soldier, then what are you?"

He flinched ever-so-slightly at that question. He had been told he was a man called _James Buchanan Barnes_ , someone who was a dear friend of Captain America. Well, that was what _Captain America_ told him.

"He called me James Buchanan Barnes."

 _James Buchanan Barnes._

She looked at him closely. Something stirred in her, something she couldn't explain.

"They're manipulating you."

 _James Buchanan Barnes..._

She felt her heart pounding painfully against her chest.

 _'I got my orders...Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.'_

She looked at him with wide eyes—a look of confusion and borderline _fear_ on her face. What had just happened? What had she just experienced? He could see it; he was experiencing those same emotions.

"Don't go back to them." Without another word, he left the alleyway, leaving her alone. His words rang in her head. How was she supposed to explain what had happened? She had grown accustomed to finding a rational angle around everything, but whatever happened between her and the Soldier—James?—had no rational explanation.

Turning her head to where he left, she pursed her lips.

"Sergeant James Barnes," she murmured. She looked down for a moment. After a minute, she left the alleyway, pulling up an almost blank expression. In that moment, she not only had a retrieval mission to complete, but a mission of her own to complete as well.

What role had James Barnes been in her life?

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter was sloppy, I know. I'm having a bit of a writer's block. Leave some suggestions on what you think should happen in the future updates, please! I could really use the help. Until I'm finished with this stupid writer's block, I could really use your help with this story, reviewers!**

 **I don't own the Captain America movies/comics. Those belong to Marvel. I own my characters and my fillers.**

 **Just to sidetrack a bit, I'm really excited about the new Captain America movie! The trailer is really good. I've been hearing rumors that in this one, Captain America gets killed, which I don't think is true because there's still the final Avengers movie[s], and it wouldn't make much sense to kill him off in this upcoming movie if he's supposed to be in the Avengers. But that's just me being a nerd on the matter.**

 **Leave a helpful and kind review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

James Buchanan Barnes. There was some kind of significance behind those words, beneath that name. She couldn't put her fingers on it, she had to keep reminding herself that the mission was her top priority. Certainly, when she got back to the remnants of the HYDRA hideout, she'd have her memories wiped for sure. There was no point in her clinging to something she wouldn't remember later.

But there was still that horrid nagging feeling that she _needed_ to know who James Buchanan Barnes had been.

So she walked back to the Museum, hoping to gather enough information to sooth her relentless curiosity.

* * *

"This is the second time I've seen you here." A young woman stood by the Angel, giving her a cheerful smile. The young woman was wearing a uniform, indicating she worked at the Museum and probably liked working there very much. "Is there anything I can help you with?" the woman chirped.

"I need to know who James Buchanan Barnes is." The Angel tried to put as much emotion into her voice as possible, proving to be difficult despite having to do it multiple times before on previous missions—some of them she didn't even remember.

"Ah." The woman nodded her head. "How much would you like to know?"

"How much information do _you_ know?"

"Enough." The woman gave a wry smile. "We had to study every single person in Captain America's life so we'd know what to tell the people the moment this place opened."

"Then tell me all you know."

The woman gave a nod, leading the Angel to the section of the Museum dedicated to James Barnes. "James Buchanan Barnes was born in 1917, in New York, also having a younger sister later on named Rebecca..." The woman went on to explain all she knew about James Buchanan Barnes—his everlasting friendship with Steve Rogers, joining the Military during WWII, the Howling Commandos—but there was one thing that stood out to the Angel. How James Buchanan Barnes had a wife.

"A wife?" she interrupted.

The woman blinked. "Yes. Her name was Rosalie Joy, but she was always called _'Rosie'_ or _'Joy'_ by her friends and family." The Angel felt her heart starting to beat painfully in her chest. "According to some documents, Mrs. Barnes had volunteered as an agent of some sort for the Military, alongside Ms. Peggy Carter—it was kind of like an internship, almost. It's hard to explain, but there was something about Rosalie Joy that just captured the hearts of everyone she met."

"What happened to her?" The Angel's voice was lower.

"It's said that there was some kind of ambush on an American base overseas, while the Commandos were gone. Rosalie Joy had been taken during the fighting. No one saw her again." There was a certain sadness in the woman's voice. "There were interviews that had been taken down after her abduction, from Sergeant Barnes' family. They were heartbroken. There were even written documents—videos, too—on Sergeant Barnes' reaction to his wife's disappearance."

"Did he mourn?"

"It'd be safe to say he did." The woman and the Angel stopped in front of a picture of James Barnes. The Angel swallowed thickly. "You know, you look a _lot_ like her."

The Angel's hardened hazel eyes snapped to the woman.

"You've got the same hair and eyes, but the way your body looks is different compared to hers, but still kinda similar in other ways."

"Did they have children?"

The woman shook her head. "The war started not even a year after their marriage."

The Angel turned to leave.

* * *

Her heart hadn't stopped beating painfully in her chest since she left the Museum. She was trying to make sense of the things that had happened—barely a couple hours into her mission, and she was learning more than she considered necessary. There was something stirring in her that she couldn't explain—it almost felt unidentifiable, but she knew it was something similar to fear or uncertainty.

She didn't like that feeling. She had been designed _not_ to feel— _years_ of training as an assassin made it clear she had to purge all emotions. If she were to complete a mission _successfully_ , she didn't need any kind fear or remorse clouding what she was to do.

After walking a couple blocks, the Angel stopped. She swallowed thickly.

 _'You know, you look a lot like her.'_ If the Angel looked like James Barnes' supposedly dead wife, who's to say she _was_ his supposedly dead wife? After Rosalie Joy's abduction, no one ever saw her again. What if...? _What if_? The Angel's face became stony, an inner irritation bubbling in her stomach. Stupid, _meaningless_ fears she couldn't understand suddenly appear because of _one_ mistake on her part. She allowed the Winter Soldier to get into her head, to somehow manipulate her thinking. She's the Angel of Death—one of HYDRA's best assassins. She couldn't afford any kind of manipulation or distractions—it wasn't even _like_ her to get distracted, let alone _manipulated_ over a pointless topic.

Straightening her shoulders, she continued walking.

She _had_ to complete her mission.

* * *

He watched as she walked away. He could see the battle she was having with herself in her eyes—those Godforsaken eyes of hers. Her hair was a very big distraction for him, one he couldn't avoid looking at. She had a familiarity to her, and though his mind was still a scramble of uncertainty and confusion, there was something in the back of his mind that seemed to ease _some of the_ confusion regarding her.

The Winter Soldier knew her.

He'd allow himself to play along with her, just to see how long it'd take for her to realize that she had been nothing more than a HYDRA puppet. The moment she realized what she had been doing, he'd allow her to settle her struggles on her own. But he'd see how far he could go with her.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I am so sorry for the sloppiness of this chapter! I've been not getting a lot of sleep—I've no idea why, I just haven't. I was supposed to have the day off work today, since it's New Year's Eve, but someone called in sick at my work so I had to cover their shift and when I got off, I tried figuring out a way to finish this chapter the best I could. Hopefully you all like it.**

 **Anywho, anything related to the Captain America storyline—whether it's the characters or mentions from the movies or comic books—that all belongs to Marvel. I own my OC's and my fillers.**

 **Before I wrap up this author's note, happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful 2015! Hopefully 2016 will be better.**

 **Leave a helpful and kind review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

It was getting pretty late into the day and she hadn't made any progress. The Angel couldn't understand what was going on with her, why she couldn't complete a simple mission. She needed to figure out a way to get her head out of the clouds. Being so easily manipulated by the Winter Soldier was frustrating, but having that strange thought about the name he gave unsettled her. She needed to figure out why that name was so important—that Captain America Museum offered minimal information, she was better off figuring it out from the Winter Soldier himself.

If she was going to continue her mission, though, she'd have to find a new disguise. She couldn't hope to wear the same, _white_ sundress for the entirety of her mission!

Walking a couple blocks, the Angel found a shopping mall and grudgingly decided that would have to do. The Angel had been trained under the few female operatives that worked for HYDRA, with the occasional male operative teaching her every now and again. One thing she learned under the female operatives was that changes in disguises were important. To avoid getting caught or looking suspicious, the Angel was taught that she needed to keep up her appearance of looking like an ordinary person.

 _'Keep your appearance as normal as you can, and make sure your weapons can be accessed easily.'_

Because of her history at being good at frontal attacks, her weapons couldn't be big and bulky—she had the occasional knife or dagger, but her weapons consisted of specially made needles. The Angel was required to learn all the fatal spots of the Human body, and practiced relentlessly for years to get as good as she was. The tips of her needles were dipped in a special—and very rare—neurotoxin, killing the nervous system and brain within minutes before dissolving.

So even though the Angel found no point in going to the mall, she knew it'd be important for her to do so. But it'd be hard considering she didn't have any money.

* * *

The Angel had quietly gone through a total of two stores, but managed to swiftly take a pair of leather gloves from one of them before exiting the store practically unnoticed. Deciding that she couldn't steal anything too noticeable from the stores, she had to figure out her options.

Until she figured out what she had to do.

Swiftly going into the nearest women's bathroom, she made it seem like she was fixing her hair and adjusting her dress until another woman walked in, standing next to the Angel to adjust her hair as well.

"Did you hear about what happened to Captain America?" the woman asked, giving the Angel a crooked, almost sheepish, smile.

The Angel's hazel eyes narrowed a fraction. "No, what happened?"

"He's in the hospital," the woman exclaimed. "He was in those giant planes that crashed part of the city. He's all beat up, found by a river." The woman looked at the Angel. "You didn't hear about that?"

She simply shrugged.

"It was all over the news. Apparently he..." The woman didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. The Angel had knocked her unconscious. During her training, she had figured out there were multiple ways to knock a person unconscious, and the easiest way to do that is a simple tap on the back of the neck. The Angel's trainers told her that if she built up enough force and released it all in that tap, the person could be knocked out cold. She had experienced that too many times to remember. Catching the woman before she fell completely, the Angel leaned the woman's body against the wall furthest away from the bathroom door. She quietly went over and locked the door, ensuring no one walked in.

Quickly getting out of her sundress, the woman had her clothing removed—with the Angel wearing those leather gloves, hoping she wasn't leaving any kind of evidence—and the Angel put on the other woman's clothes. It was a little baggy on her, considering the other woman was a little bigger than her. Carefully taking the woman's purse, the Angel took out the woman's wallet, but took the woman's money, and other personal belongings and placed them beside the unconscious form. Finding a ponytail holder in the purse, she pulled her honey brown hair into a messy bun, a few unruly strands falling around her face, and put on the woman's baggy sweatshirt.

* * *

The Angel had spent too much of her time trying to hide the woman's body from any civilians. She had taken the woman and shoved her into a stall, along with whatever was left of her belongings. Quickly unlocking the door, and throwing up the hood of the sweatshirt, the Angel walked out of the bathroom, not making eye contact with any of the other shoppers.

From what she gathered, none of the other shoppers even gave her a second glance.

Exiting the mall, the Angel maneuvered her way through the crowds of people on the sidewalk.

She kept her focus _set_ on finding the Winter Soldier. She couldn't return to the HYDRA base without him, she'd be killed if she returned empty-handed. But would they really risk the life of one of their highly trained assassins just to get the other one back?

As the crowds started thinning, the Angel slowed her pace a little. The sun was almost down. Her eyes narrowed.

"You look ridiculous."

Turning, she saw the Winter Soldier standing behind her. He was standing near an apartment building, his icy blue eyes glaring into her. He wore a filthy hoodie, the hood pulled up.

"Why won't you return to HYDRA?" she asked.

"I don't _belong_ to HYDRA." His voice had lowered an octave, sounding more like a growl than anything.

"Your refusal will mean my life."

He didn't say anything.

"Who is James Buchanan Barnes?" she asked.

The Winter Soldier's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You said that name. What is it supposed to mean?"

"James Buchanan Barnes _was_ me. A long time ago." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"That name holds some kind of significance to me," she replied robotically. "I don't know why."

"HYDRA's manipulating you," he hissed. "They've been manipulating you for _years_."

"He was married." The Winter Soldier's icy blue eyes widened, as if he weren't expecting her to say that. "The man you're claiming you used to be, he had a wife, in the 1940s." His breathing became labored. The Angel took a step toward him. "I was told I look almost like her. How is that possible?"

He looked at her warily.

"Answer my questions."

"It's possible...HYDRA...I..." He let out a frustrated growl. She looked at him expectantly. "I don't know. I want to understand, but it's..."

"My patience with you is wearing thin," she said harshly.

Gripping her forearm tightly, almost _painful_ , he dragged her to the apartment building and glowered at her.

"You're nothing but a killing machine to them," he hissed. "You'll never understand _anything_ if you don't figure it out yourself."

Her hazel eyes narrowed. "Your rebellious behavior unlocked something important to you. I want to understand how it could involve me."

"You think what you're doing is making a difference," he hissed, "but you don't understand what the Hell you're doing."

The Angel didn't say anything.

"You're not a person to them, you're a weapon. You'll do their dirty work but take the fall when something goes wrong."

Her stony expression seemed to crack a little under what he was saying, but quickly recomposed itself. She couldn't understand why she was allowing herself to get so easily persuaded by him, so distracted and manipulated. She had been trained to be quick and efficient during her missions, but the Winter Soldier was having an effect on her that she couldn't explain easily.

"Who was Rosalie Joy?" she growled.

She saw his mouth thin, as if the name had somehow offended him. Those icy blue eyes seemed to blaze and his shoulders stiffened. She could hear a whirring noise, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed that one of his hands—though covered with a fingerless glove—was made completely out of metal. It was balled into a fist.

"Rosalie Joy was his wife," she hissed. "Supposedly, she had a similar appearance to me. She was involved in some kind of agency overseas during World War II, she was kidnapped during an attack on an American base overseas, her husband mourned. Her husband was James Buchanan Barnes and somehow that name is doing something to me. Explain."

He leaned down, his mouth just inches from her ear. "You don't need my help," he said in a low voice. Her heart jumped into her throat. "I think you got all the answers you need, they've just been keeping you from remembering."

As he leaned back, he kept his eyes on her. Her face was still unreadable, but her eyes were dancing with an unexplained emotion. She was in the very beginning stages of remembering, the confused, uncertainty that would dance in her mind for a little bit before she started to grasp what was really going on.

When he was about to turn and leave, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

She noticed the way he was acting. He'd gone as still as a statue. She fully expected him to leave again, making her look for him all over again. It had become like an endless cycle between them—they'd meet, something would happen, she'd allow him to escape, repeat. But at that point, with him still standing there with his shoulders stiff and his whole body tense, she quickly realized something was wrong.

There was a sound. She was familiar with it—someone had used a gun with a silencer on it.

She felt a sting on the back of her neck. It wasn't a bullet that hit her, rather, a tranquilizer. Her body stood rigid for a moment before she felt herself starting to collapse.

Everything had blurred out before she could tell what happened next.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I hope this chapter was good for you guys. Sorry it took so long to post! Let me know what you guys think.**

 **Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story so far; it means a lot to me! If you guys have any suggestions on what could happen in future updates, let me know. I love to hear your ideas.**

 **I don't own anything in the Captain America movie[s]/comic[s]. I own my characters and my fillers, everything else belongs to Marvel.**

 **Hopefully you're all having a good 2016 so far! Though it's too early to tell, I have a feeling this might be a good year. I hope you all have a good year.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

 _"Did you get into another fight?"_

 _A small, thin looking guy with his blonde hair swept in a clean cut looking way stood in front of his locker. His face was covered in bruises and cuts—a black eye with a split lip; a red, slightly swollen nose; and a bruise on his cheekbone. His blue eyes looked at her in almost shock, but he gave a small, sheepish smile._

 _"Yeah," he murmured._

 _A smile spread across her lip-gloss stained lips. "I bet you won, huh?" she asked, her voice cheerful, lively._

 _He laughed._

 _"Tell me, Steve, what was it about this time?" Rosalie Joy's smile widened, her hazel eyes sparkling._

 _"Some wise guy was saying some stuff I didn't like." Steve shrugged his shoulders. "His pals showed up and..." He gestured to himself. Rosalie Joy nodded with a slight giggle._

 _"Guys like that are just punks," she said. "At least you've got the courage to stick up for yourself."_

 _Rosalie Joy and Steve Rogers had been locker buddies since the beginning of the new school year. Though Steve was just a year older than Rosalie Joy, physically he didn't even compare to most of the boys his age. He was a sweet guy, though, and Rosalie Joy found it easy to talk to him. He always listened to her and she found that to be a wonderful quality._

 _"How was your spring break?" Steve asked._

 _"It was great!" Rosalie Joy exclaimed, getting some textbooks out of her locker. "Danni and Gregorio came home today. Danni's finally had her baby—a little boy."_

 _"What's his name?"_

 _"Charles." A smile spread across Rosalie Joy's face at the thought of her baby nephew. "He's the cutest thing ever—he's got Korey's eyes but Danni's nose."_

 _The one thing Rosalie Joy found herself doing from time to time was talking about her older sister and brother. She never saw them often, since they were married and out of the house. Danni was the eldest of the siblings, in her late twenties now with a newborn with her husband of a little over a year. Rosalie Joy's brother, Gregorio, had been married for only six months but they were already talking about children._

 _"That does sound cute." It wasn't Steve who said that. Rosalie Joy's shoulders stiffened. She recognized that voice. "Steve, you didn't tell me you had a lady friend."_

 _Rosalie Joy saw Steve's face flush, throwing an almost embarrassedly sarcastic look over her shoulder._

 _Turning her head, Rosalie Joy felt her cheeks heat up. Of course she had to find herself infatuated with him!_

 _He threw a charismatic, charming smile her way._

 _"I don't think Steve had the honor of introducing us," he laughed. "I'm..."_

* * *

The Angel's eyes quickly opened. She was laying on the cold ground. The air was damp and she felt her skin break out into goose-bumps. Quickly blinking the blurriness out of her eyes, the Angel quickly discovered she was in a warehouse, abandoned no doubt.

"Get up." Turning her head, she saw the Winter Soldier standing just a few feet away from her. The hood he had on earlier was down, his hair hung around his face. His icy blue eyes bore into her expectantly.

Without taking her eyes off him, she slowly sat up. "What happened?" she muttered.

"One of your HYDRA agents had been following you," he seethed. "They tranquilized you but I took care of the problem."

The Angel's hazel eyes widened. "You killed one of HYDRA's agents?" she growled.

"What did you expect me to do?" he snapped.

Closing her eyes, the Angel took a deep breath. She couldn't lose her composure.

"They probably believe I am rogue now," she said softly. "They will kill me."

His icy blue eyes studied her for a moment longer before lowering. He felt a pang of something in his chest. The way she looked, almost lost under that mask she put up, made him feel awful. He couldn't make sense of it.

"They won't kill you."

"Yes they will. I was HYDRA's last hope in returning their prized assassin." She looked at him. "Now they believe I am working for _you_."

The Soldier's face hardened. "They won't kill you." Her lips pursed. "You wanted to know about James Buchanan Barnes; so do I. If he really had a wife once, then the best shot of figuring all this out is if we work together."

"Together?"

"You were supposed to figure everything out on your own," he muttered. "I had to. Your memories, your identity—you were supposed to figure it out on your own. I still need to clear up some memories."

"Why do you want this to be completed with me?"

"Something about you is striking up some kind of memory for me," he muttered almost bitterly. "If you were in my life, I need you so I can figure out your significance."

The Angel's eyes narrowed.

"Your past must mean a great deal for you," she muttered.

He didn't answer.

"Do you still request to go by _'Winter Soldier'_?" she sighed.

"No," he snapped. "The Winter Soldier is what they _made_ me. That's not me."

She didn't say anything at first. "Then what does that make me?"

He didn't answer.

Bringing her knees up, the Angel wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. Her mind went back to that dream she had. Was it a dream? Was this what... _James?_ was experiencing? Strange, unexplained images of a life she might've had before?

"If we don't leave soon, HYDRA will be on our asses in no time."

Her hazel eyes peered over at him. Her arms tightened around her legs.

* * *

She wasn't pleased with what was occurring. She was trying to find every logical solution for what she was doing—betraying HYDRA, grudgingly _joining_ the very man she was supposed to _capture_ on an identity mission! Though she had some form of determination to figure out something about what she was experiencing while she was out finding the target, she didn't expect it to turn out the way it did.

"Quit sulking."

"I'm not sulking."

"You've been pouting like a petty child since leaving the warehouse."

Grabbing her upper arm, he led her to a more shaded area of the sidewalk and glowered down at her.

"The only reason I'm letting you stay with me is because you're useful to me. If I didn't need your help, I would have killed you the moment I saw you."

A glower set on her face. "You're wasting this precious time with empty threats," she hissed. "If you want your mission completed successfully, you'd keep moving."

They kept moving.

* * *

"There's a hospital not far from here." It was well into early morning. Neither of them had a moment's rest. His gaze sifted to her. "You need to go in and check on something."

"What?" she muttered, her arms crossed stiffly over her chest.

* * *

She had easily lied to the receptionist at the front counter about being a visitor. As she was being led down a hallway, she quickly and quietly took a sharp turn. Entering a hallway that was less occupied, grabbing the arm of a passing nurse and leading her into an unoccupied room. Wrapping her other arm around the nurse's mouth, the Angel looked around the room.

A couple of minutes later, she left the room in the nurse's outfit. The unconscious nurse had been tied onto the nearest chair and left there.

The Angel tied her hair back into a more professional looking bun. She held a clipboard in her hands, showing what the nurse was supposed to be doing.

Following the instructions that had been given to her, the Angel went through the specific hallways she'd been told and stopped in front of the room she was supposed to enter. He'd told her that he did visit very few times since the patient was brought in. Walking in, she gently knocked on the door. A young African American man looked over at her. The battered man in the bed was hooked up to IVs and all kinds of monitors.

Walking up to where the battered man—Captain America—was laying on his bed. His bruises were varying in color—from deep purple to a shade of blue to a mixture of yellows and greens. The cuts on his face were scabbed over and some of the swelling he had seemed to be not so bad.

"He'll be OK, right?" the African American man asked.

Looking over at him, the Angel smiled. "His injuries seem to be healing well," she said in a kind voice. "I'm sure he'll be out of here in no time."

The young man nodded.

The Angel continued looking at his face, studying him. He was asleep. Captain Rogers looked so young, despite the whole being frozen for decades situation.

"It's a miracle he even made it out alive," she murmured.

"I'm sorry?" the friend asked.

Shaking her head, the Angel gave a stained smile. "It's a miracle he's alive," she said. Looking back down at him, she felt something stir in her chest. _He always had a thing for getting into fights._ She felt her heart jump into her throat.

 _'Did you get into another fight?'_

Swallowing thickly, the Angel tried to regain her composure.

The man nodded hesitantly.

Without another word, she left the room.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry it took so long to update this chapter, I got busy with school work. Anywho, I hope you guys like this chapter! I've been having a bit of writer's block for a while now, so if you guys have any kind of suggestion for how I could have this story progress, let me know!**

 **Everything that isn't my OC's or fillers belongs to Marvel.**

 **Head's up! For anyone who's read my Thor story Counting Stars and my Avengers story Let the Flames Begin, I need to let you guys know this! I took down my story Let the Flames Begin. There were some problems on my end that made me decide I needed to take the story down. But I'll repost it soon enough! I'm sorry for the inconvenience.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

Steve woke up and looked around. He could feel his body's dull aches where his injuries were and could hear Sam's Marvin Gaye music playing quietly.

"It's about time you woke up," Sam said. "I was starting to wonder if you ever would." Sam threw a mischievous smirk Steve's way.

Letting out a pained, humorless chuckle, Steve winced a little.

"Don't go hurting yourself."

"You're hilarious, Sam."

Sam smirked at that. "You missed a really attractive nurse coming in to check on you."

"I doubt I'd be interested."

"I think you'd like her." Sam turned off the music and leaned back, looking at Steve with a small frown. "She was a little weird, though."

Steve's brows furrowed. "Let's worry about her later," he groaned.

* * *

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" she hissed.

"I don't know!" The Soldier hunched his shoulders. After the Angel managed to find a change of clothes, the two were back in the streets of DC.

The Angel crossed her arms over her chest. She could faintly feel a bubble of irritation and frustration in the pit of her stomach. When the Soldier gave her a sidelong glance, he could see the emotion written clear in her eyes.

She was in no way pleased.

"That was Captain America?" she muttered.

His lips pursed.

Her eyes lowered.

"It'd be best if we left DC," the Soldier said, "while he's still in the hospital."

"Because he will look for you?" she murmured.

"Because he thinks there's a chance of saving me."

She let out a snort. As if _Captain America_ could understand what it meant to be in their situation. The man had everything—the Avengers, a good reputation, people who adored him. Captain America was an icon for the people, a symbol of a better future. What were they? They were assassins, trained killers, weapons. Anytime someone saw either of them, it instantly meant someone would die.

Was that kind of life _really_ what she wanted?

* * *

"What more about this friend of yours should I know?" Sam asked. Though Steve had been awake for over an hour, Sam stayed to keep his friend company.

Steve sighed. Sam only knew as much as he'd been told, which wasn't much.

"Buck was married," Steve said. "It was about a year before the war started. Bucky and I knew her from school—she was smart, pretty, and sociable. Everyone loved her."

"You liked her?" Sam said with a smirk.

"For a little bit. But she was interested in Bucky—all the girls were. It took Bucky a little longer to like her back, but when he figured it out, I never saw someone as happy as him." Steve let out a slow, slightly pained, sigh. "They got married, then the war happened. Buck got shipped off and became sergeant. She managed to land a spot overseas as an agent in the earlier days of SHIELD. Bucky wasn't complaining—he got to see his wife."

 **—Mad World—**

 _"I still can't believe you're here." Bucky, Rosalie Joy, and Steve—who had managed to land a position in a special Military program—were sitting around, after Bucky's and Steve's training, picking at their food. Bucky kept an arm slung around Rosalie Joy's shoulders, making it clear to the other men that she was taken._

 _"It took a lot of convincing," she giggled, gently nudging her husband. "Besides, I'll be training under Peggy, so I'll be hanging around base a lot."_

 _Bucky tightened his grip on her, bringing her closer to him. "No complaints about that."_

 _"Don't even think about trying to sneak into my room either," she huffed, poking Bucky in the ribs. "I'm not getting in trouble if you try something stupid!"_

 _"Hey! What makes you think I'd do something like that?"_

 _"Buck, that sounds like something you'd do," Steve chuckled._

 _"Please behave," she said, looking up at Bucky with those doe-eyes he couldn't resist. "For me?"_

 _A soft look came across Bucky's face. He nodded._

 **—Mad World—**

"Seems like he was a good husband," Sam sighed.

Steve nodded. "But she was taken—while the Commandos were gone, there was a raid on one of the bases we were on and she was taken. No one ever found her." Steve felt as if his heart was in his throat. "I've never seen Bucky look so broken before. Not even three weeks later, he fell off the train and..."

Sam nodded. "If you ask me, Bucky managed to survive falling from a train. Has it occurred to you that this wife of his is still alive?"

* * *

The plan was to get as far from DC as possible. With Rogers still in the hospital, it seemed to ease whatever tension the Soldier had, but the Angel was still feeling tense. HYDRA had tried taking her out—tranquilizing her. Was that how she was going to end her mission? With secret HYDRA agents looming just out of her reach to knock her and the Soldier out at the right time? She hunched her shoulders.

"If you're truly trying to avoid recapture, hanging around me isn't a wise choice," she muttered.

He grunted. "If they're trying to do something to you, then they're going to do something to me. I highly doubt it matters if you captured me or not."

She pursed he lips.

"If you're some kind of master assassin, at least attempt to look like you're not going to kill someone," he hissed, lowering his head to her ear. "I've already seen multiple people looking in our direction—you're making us look suspicious."

" _I'm_ making us look suspicious?" she seethed. "What am I doing that's suspicious?"

He glared down at her.

"If you want to get out of the city so badly, quit your complaining." Her eyes narrowed. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the long wait to put this up! Here it is. Part of the reason this wasn't up right away was because of responsibilities and because for some reason I have trouble finishing whatever I start right away. It's like a gradual process with me. I know it must be annoying for you guys, but I am trying to get better at finishing these chapters as soon as possible! As a head's up, too, any kind of reminder that whenever I post a new chapter the previous one is in its place, I know. It happens. I think I've mentioned it before, but I thought I'd say it [possibly again].**

 **OK, then! Sorry for that little rant.**

 **'Captain America' is not mine. I own nothing in the Marvel universe, only my characters and fillers.**

 **Leave a helpful and kind review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

 _"James Buchanan Barnes, what are you doing?" Rosalie Joy looked at Bucky with a slight smirk. It was Saturday night and Bucky had shown up randomly at her doorstep asking her parents if she was around._

 _He shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't take my best girl out on a night like this?" he asked, trying to sound casual._

 _Rosalie Joy gave an unladylike snort. "It may be a beautiful night, but that doesn't answer my question." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Not to mention why you're being so charming all of a sudden."_

 _"What's that supposed to mean?" he exclaimed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders._

 _"You never call me your best girl unless you get something in return, Bucky."_

 _"That hurts."_

 _"This is the first time I've seen my parents in a while and you show up out of nowhere." Rosalie Joy shrugged Bucky's arm off her shoulder. She gave him a hardened look. "I know you, Bucky. Not to mention that if you wanted to spend time with me, you would've brought Steve, too. He'd never pass up an opportunity to spend a night with us unless he was sick."_

 _Bucky's blue eyes lowered. She was right. But he had a valid reason for why he showed up so abruptly! He just couldn't find a way to say it. Rosalie Joy had been a dear friend of his and Steve's since high school, and when they all graduated and started living different lives, they sort of fell out of contact. Bucky had noticed that Rosalie Joy had become a beautiful young woman since they first met, and there was a part of him that was really starting to pay attention to her. He'd noticed she was acting a little strange around him, but not treating Steve any differently._

 _Bucky was trying his hardest to understand what he was feeling and what she was feeling._

 _It was because of Steve that Bucky was starting to put everything together._

 _"I had actually visited Steve earlier," Bucky said, clearing his throat. "He wasn't feeling too well."_

 _"Are you being serious?" she asked._

 _"You know I am. He's the little guy from Brooklyn, never passes up an opportunity to fight." He shrugged. "The only thing that holds him down is an occasional cold."_

 _"Bucky..."_

 _"Do you like me?" he blurted, an actual **blush** on his cheeks._

 _"What?" Rosalie Joy's eyes widened._

 _"Do you **like** me?"_

 _Rosalie Joy stopped, a stunned expression on her face._

 _"Joy?" Bucky stood in front of her._

 _"What are you trying to do?" she said, her voice shaking._

 _Bucky gently smiled at her. "Hoping you'd give me a chance."_

 **—Mad World—**

Her eyes opened and she had to repress a gasp. She had no recollection of falling asleep. She quickly took in her surroundings—another abandoned warehouse.

Sitting up, she felt a slight stiffness in her joints and an ache in her lower back. Brushing the stray hairs out of her face, she took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"We need to move." Looking over, the Winter Soldier stood only a couple feet away. Without all those layers of jackets, she had an opportunity to _really_ get a good look at him. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt that seemed a bit loose on him, but still managed cling onto his muscles. The one thing that stood out the most to her was that he wore a glove on his left hand. She saw something flash briefly underneath a small gap between the glove and the sleeve of his shirt. He noticed the look on her face and a feeling swept over him—something bordering confusion and concern.

"Are they coming?" she asked, her voice sounding void.

His face hardened. "They're on their way."

Standing up, she brushed herself off and pursed her lips. They had already spent a majority of the day—and well into the night—leaving the city. Knowing Captain America was still in the hospital seemed to lift a weight off the Soldier's shoulders, and for some reason she was starting to understand why he felt that way. If, in some way, she did know Captain America before HYDRA got her, then she wouldn't want him to get involved in what they were doing.

"I saw three exits that lead around the back of the warehouse," the Soldier muttered, clenching his fists. "It's fenced off, but as long as we don't make ourselves obvious, then it shouldn't be a problem."

"How far out are they?"

* * *

"So you're saying HYDRA could've done the same thing to her?" Steve looked at Sam with the slightest hint of doubt in his eyes. It had been one thing figuring out Bucky had been turned into HYDRA's most powerful assassin, but Rosie? His other best friend? That seemed almost impossible.

"Your missing person fell off a train and miraculously survived," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. "Who's to say they didn't tweak her with whatever they gave him?"

Steve's lips pursed. If he wasn't still confined to that Godforsaken hospital, he'd probably do a little more investigating. With SHIELD having fallen apart, and everything having been leaked onto the internet, maybe Steve could find something useful on her. Maybe he'd figure out a way to contact Natasha and ask her to do one more favor for him.

She'd managed to find documents on Bucky, maybe she could find something on Rosie.

"I just don't want to believe it," Steve murmured. "She was like a sister, Sam." He shook his head. "Buck loved her more than anything—he did anything to make her happy."

Before Sam could say another word, there was a bit of a commotion in the halls. There were security guards and some doctors running around.

"Something going on?" Sam asked a passing doctor.

"One of our nurses was found tied up in one of our rooms," a doctor exclaimed.

Steve slowly sat up, wincing a little at the pressure and discomfort he felt. "Tied up?"

"Someone must've been impersonating one of our nurses."

"There was this one who came in not too long ago." Sam went on to explain what she looked like, a look of confusion swept across the doctor's face.

"I don't remember seeing anyone like her around here."

Sam looked back at Steve.

Steve's gaze hardened.

* * *

The Angel and the Winter Soldier managed to get out of the warehouse undetected. The remaining HYDRA operatives in that area had managed to track down their location and, by the time they were far enough away, infiltrated the warehouse.

"What do we do when he gets out of the hospital?" she asked, her hands shoved into her pockets.

He didn't say anything.

"Do you even care?"

Still no answer.

"He'll look for you." Her hazel eyes studied him carefully. "James Buchanan Barnes was his best friend."

"I know."

"Then what is your plan for when he's out of the hospital?"

He didn't answer.

"We can't kill him." The Soldier's sharp blue eyes looked at her with a heated glare. "You made that clear when you spared his life."

"Would you kill him if you were given the chance?" he growled.

"If I had to make a critical decision, I would." The Soldier's jaw set. "If he's filled any significance in the revival of our memories, what use is he to us? How much longer can Captain America be considered a hero before he's obsolete?"

"We don't kill him," the Soldier barked.

Her lips pursed. The way she saw it, Captain America had a significant role in their lives, whether they were connected or not. But once his usefulness had been fulfilled, what was he to them? Nothing. At least, that was the HYDRA part of her thinking that way. Gather the intel, kill the provider.

"Fine," she murmured. "We won't kill him."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the delay, but I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think. If you've got suggestions for future updates, leave a review or PM me! I always love suggestions.**

 **I own nothing in the Marvel universe! All of that belongs to Stan Lee, the producers/writers, etc. I own my characters and my fillers, that's it.**

 **If you guys think I'm getting any of the characters wrong, let me know! Also, I don't know a lot of 40s slang, and I know I could look it up, but if you guys know any of it, I'd love for a review, please!**

 **Please leave any suggestions or ideas you've got! I'd love to see what you guys have in mind.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

 _"Where is she?" Bucky looked around. While he and the other Commandos were gone, the base they had been staying at was ambushed. Bucky hadn't been there for Joy. He had to make sure she was OK. As far as he knew, there hadn't been any casualties. But he had to make sure his Joy was OK._

 _They had been moved to a different base, one with more room for the survivors._

 _"Peggy!" Bucky looked at the British woman with almost pleading eyes. "Where is Joy? Where's my wife?" His voice cracked a little._

 _Steve stood a little further back. He could practically feel the fear radiating off Bucky. Steve was feeling the same way._

 _"I-I'm so sorry," Peggy stammered softly._

 _Bucky shook his head. "Peggy, please," he said, trying to control his voice. "You're her best friend. What happened to my wife?"_

 _Peggy looked down. Bucky could see she was trying to compose herself. She had been working with the Military long enough to know when to keep her emotions in check, but sometimes they slipped._

 _"She was taken," Peggy said. She could see him swallow thickly, blinking back tears that were threatening to overflow. "I've searched, I asked anyone who could have possibly seen her last. She wasn't anywhere at the old base. They took her, Bucky."_

 _He shook his head, trying to contain the tears in his eyes._

 _Bucky let out a strangled sob._

 **—Mad World—**

It had been a couple of days since Steve had been let out of the hospital. His mind kept reeling over the possibilities of Rosie being alive, of knowing that Bucky was out there. He needed to figure out a way to get Bucky back and, if possible, figure out if Rosie had endured the same fate as Bucky.

"Man, you've barely been out of the hospital a week," Sam said, "you need to calm it down. You'll tear a stitch or something."

Steve looked at Sam with a deeply set frown. "Buck's out there," he sighed. "And now there's a chance Rosie's out there, too."

A heavy knot formed in Steve's gut.

"You'll find them." Sam carefully gave Steve a pat on the shoulder.

"I could ask Natasha if she could find any files on her," Steve muttered, tapping his fingers on Sam's countertop. "She found something on Bucky, maybe..."

"...you should stop pushing yourself," Sam emphasized. "I'm not going to be responsible if you pull something or rip something."

Steve sent a dry look Sam's way.

"Super Soldier or not, everyone needs time to heal."

* * *

 _"We could have a whole Army of kids," Bucky chuckled. It had only been a week since he and Joy got married and they were enjoying every minute of it. The day Bucky proposed to his Joy, she nearly fainted. Their relationship had started off rocky—she was having self-doubts, he felt like he wasn't doing a good enough job. But after a year of dating, their relationship evened itself out and he eventually proposed._

 _They married Christmas Eve._

 _The two were lounging in bed, Joy with her head resting on Bucky's chest; Bucky with his arms wrapped so securely around her she felt like nothing could ever happen to her._

 _"An Army?" she giggled. "What ever happened to just two kids?"_

 _Bucky kissed the top of her head. "If you think about it, we'd make some damn perfect babies."_

 _"Where did this even come from?" she laughed._

 _"Well, we were having some amazing sex and then it just popped into my head."_

 _Rosalie Joy let out the most beautiful laugh Bucky ever heard._

 _"Well, we're not having any kids anytime soon," she giggled. "I'd like to enjoy being married first."_

 **—Mad World—**

He glanced over at her again. Somehow she manages to fall asleep at night, though some nights the sleep is shorter than others. While she slept, he'd get very brief memories—a flash of something where he'd see a woman's face who looks almost like the Angel. Only that other woman's face was happier, almost younger looking. The Angel's face was hardened, expressionless. Her hazel eyes could burn a hole in anything.

The Soldier pursed his lips.

 _'He was married. That man you're claiming you used to be, he had a wife, in the 1940s. I was told I almost look like her. How is that possible?'_

He looked back at the Angel. She didn't seem so hardened when she slept. She _almost_ looked like the woman from his memories—but he couldn't say for sure if they were _actually_ memories or if the Angel's words were starting to mess with his already fucked up mind.

 _That laugh sounded real, it sounded like something I've heard before._ The frown that was already on his face deepened. _It stirred something in me. Something I can't explain._

* * *

"How'd it go?" Sam asked.

Steve had his face buried in his hands. He'd spoken to Natasha, after having to spend thirty minutes figuring out how he'd be able to reach her. It was frustrating enough having to figure out a way to just call _Natasha_ , but then the conversation they had made his frustration escalate.

"She's never heard anything on her," he muttered. "Bucky's had more of a reputation as the Winter Soldier. If Rosie's still alive, she did a better job at keeping herself undetected."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, a frown on his face.

"I _have_ to look for myself." Steve balled his fists.

"Listen, I know this is important to you," Sam said, "but you can't be jumping off buildings and dodging explosions right now. You're not in the best shape at the moment."

Steve gritted his teeth. Sam's been telling him that since he got out of the hospital. Steve's bruises had gone from various shades of blue and purple to yellowish greens. His cuts were still scabbed over but they were healing. He'd had some stitching and he had some bandaging and parts of him were really stiff.

"You can do some more research from here," Sam said. "If your friend couldn't find anything, do some of your own that _doesn't_ involve you hurting yourself."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry if the ending was weak and sorry if the chapter was sloppy. I'm probably going to be putting in more of what Steve and Sam are going through during their little search for Bucky and Rosalie Joy. Let me know what you guys think! If you think I'm getting any of Marvel's characters wrong, let me know and I'll change it the best I can! Also, during the flashback segments, I know absolutely nothing about 1940s slang, so don't really expect me to be putting that kind of stuff in there. I can try, but I don't know any.**

 **Anywho, I own nothing in the Marvel universe, all of that belongs to Stan Lee, the producers, etc. I do own my characters and my fillers. There will be moments in this story that will flashback to 'Captain America: the First Avenger' as the story progresses.**

 **Just a head's up, most every chapter might begin with a flashback. Hopefully you guys are OK with that.**

 **If you guys have any ideas on future updates—possible side-plots, flashback ideas, OC's, character pairings—leave a review or PM me! I'm always up for whatever ideas you guys have. Also, I'm thinking about writing another 'Captain America' story that's a possible Sam Wilson/OC pairing. I don't think I've seen a story like that, if there are, I just haven't been paying attention. I guess it could be a story leading up to 'Winter Soldier'. I don't know. Let me know what you guys think!**

 **Sorry for the long author's note.**

 **Leave a helpful and kind review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

 _"Buck, you can't keep doing this." Steve went and sat down next to his friend. Since finding out about Joy's abduction, Bucky had confined himself in an abandoned, slightly destroyed bar. He had served himself cup after cup of whatever beer was left, but he wasn't even intoxicated, all he felt was a buzz at the back of his skull._

 _"Do what?" Bucky said, his voice hoarse. His eyes stung from crying, his throat ached, his chest felt heavy._

 _"This." Steve took the beer from Bucky, who didn't even put up a fight to get it back. "I talked to Phillips. We're going to find Rosie."_

 _Bucky looked at his friend. The usual liveliness and charisma in his eyes was dulled, an almost defeated frown on his face. "We don't even know who took her."_

 _"What we know is that it was HYDRA who raided the last base." Steve leaned back in his seat. "Since there's still plenty of HYDRA bases we need to take down, we'll do a thorough sweep just to make sure."_

 _Bucky anxiously toyed with the wedding band on his finger. He and Joy had only been married for a little over a year, they didn't even get to enjoy a married life before the war hit. Some might've thought a year would be enough time to get used to being married, but Joy's and Bucky's marriage felt different. They had so many plans they wanted to do together but couldn't. But with HYDRA having kidnapped her, they might never experience it if she wasn't brought back._

 _"Buck?" Steve said gently._

 _He nodded. "I'll do it," he said._

 _A small smile came across Steve's face. "Let's go."_

 **—Mad World—**

She laid on her back, looking up at the warehouse ceiling with disinterest. She and the Winter Soldier had been on the run for a total of two and a half weeks. That meant they had spent two and a half weeks running from any HYDRA operatives intent on hunting them; running from Captain America, who had been released from the hospital. But aside from that, they were just running. They wanted to get away from everything.

Her honey brown hair was splayed around her as she laid on the ground. Her hands were on her stomach.

She sighed.

* * *

The Soldier had been carefully—strategically—keeping watch around the warehouse. He managed to find multiple escape routes in case a situation arose. He and the Angel had been in the warehouse for a total of three days. For some reason, she didn't want to leave. Not yet. They had managed to get out of DC a while back and were currently somewhere in New Hampshire.

Stalking back into the warehouse, he froze for a moment when he saw the Angel laying on the warehouse floor. Her golden honey brown hair was around her in a way that made his chest tighten. For the first time since they encountered, it kind of felt like he was actually _looking_ at her.

He noticed how, in the two and a half weeks they'd been running, she was becoming less and less hardened and more exhausted. Her hazel eyes still held a fieriness that could make the toughest men whimper, but they were getting more and more exhausted. The frown she always had became deeper and more worn out. But somehow she still managed to maintain that ethereal beauty.

It just couldn't make compute with him.

There was something about her that he wanted to protect, that he wanted to keep safe. Besides HYDRA, why did he feel like he should protect her? He didn't know her—at least, it seemed like it at first. She was somehow involved in his old life. He was beginning to see it. But he just couldn't figure it out.

* * *

She could feel him watching her. He wasn't moving, wasn't talking, just watching. She didn't bother to look at him or to talk to him. There was something stirring in her that was keeping her occupied on other things. Her mind was stumbling through things that might've started to piece together. The Angel was beginning to realize she felt lonely. She felt sad and lonely and scared. The feelings hit her like a bag full of bricks.

"We can't stay here." His voice pierced through the silence like an arrow. Her stomach twisted and her heart felt heavier. Frustration bubbled at the thought of how ridiculous she was acting.

* * *

Sam was starting to get a bit worried for Steve. While he understood Steve's commitment to finding his friends, it felt like it was borderline obsessing. Sam knew all too well the feeling of losing a friend, especially when that friend served in the Military with him. But it felt like Steve was pushing himself to the limit just to find _a little_ information.

For all he knew, Bucky was long gone. Even if Bucky's wife somehow managed to survive all these years, the chances of her being found _anywhere_ were slim. Very slim.

The thing that bothered Sam the most was that Steve knew he was pushing himself too hard, but he wasn't going to make an effort to stop. Sam could only warn him so many times not to go overboard before it started feeling old. Sam would help out the best he could, though.

Letting out a sigh, Sam watched for a brief moment while Steve struggled to figure out how to use his laptop. Despite having been out of the ice for as long as he was, Steve still struggled with a lot of modern things. Walking over, Sam decided to help his friend out.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **If this chapter was weak in any way, I'm sorry. I've been having a pretty stressful day and I've been trying to figure out a way to make this chapter at least decent for you guys! Let me know what you think. If you've got ideas for future updates, please, let me know. PM me or leave a review. Should there be a chapter dedicated kind of through the POV of Sam? Should there be one for Steve? Should there be a chapter that's solely a flashback? What do you guys think? Should I take out the flashbacks? Sorry if it feels like I'm desperate for ideas, but I've been running on fumes lately and I'm trying to be creative right now!**

 **Nothing in the 'Marvel' universe belongs to me. All I'll ever own are my characters and my fillers.**

 **I've got finals coming up this week, so I will be momentarily preoccupied with that. I should be studying now, just to get it out of the way, but I'm a huge procrastinator and that's not good. Just a head's up for you guys.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

 _She was sitting in a dirty cell. It was cold. Her entire body was sore. Rosalie Joy wasn't sure how long she'd been in the cell, but she figured it'd been a while. There was still a glimmer of hope that she'd be rescued, but after the amount of time she spent in there, it was wearing thin. She tried escaping many times, but she never got very far._

 _The inside of her arms were bruised from where they practically stabbed the needles in. Her throat felt thick and her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. Her head roared with an awful headache. Sweat trickled down her skin and dampened her honey brown hair. Every time she breathed it sounded like a train was bellowing past._

 _When the door opened, the grimaced delayed on her face. The door always screeched open. It made her headache even worse._

 _Two soldiers stood at either side of the door while another man sauntered in. If she hadn't been feeling like absolute shit, she would've been scared out of her mind._

 _"How are we doing today, mein kleiner Engel?" his thick German accented voice called._

 _Rosalie Joy swallowed thickly, but her mouth felt so cottony and dry her throat burned._

 _He stood in front of her, his arms behind his back._

 _Rosalie Joy wasn't sure if it was whatever it was they injected into her, but she swore she saw his head being more of a reddish looking skull than an ordinary head._

 _"It's been a while," he chuckled. "Where are your rescuers? I thought they would've found you by now."_

 _A shiver ran up her spine, but she couldn't tell if it was because she was cold._

 _"Your body is still trying to reject the injections." He shook his head._

 _"W...W...Where am I?" she rasped._

 _He let out a chuckle. "You do not need to worry about that. You will be die stärksten und gefürchtetsten gesicht von HYDRA." Even though Rosalie Joy didn't know a lot of German—the way he said it made her heart fall in the pit of her stomach and tears well up in her eyes. "Don't worry, mein kleiner Engel," he said with a sickening chuckle. "Everything will be better in the end."_

 **—Mad World—**

She looked at the inside of her arms. Even though she could heal quicker than an ordinary person, she could still see faint scars, almost like she had been given several shots. Her skin prickled at that. She couldn't remember there being any kind of experimentation—those memory sweeps took away a lot.

She looked over at the Soldier. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his sweat jacket. He was trying so hard to conceal himself.

It didn't go unnoticed by either of them that the incident that went down between Captain America and the Winter Soldier was still the highlight of the news. DC was still recovering and the public's need to know the Winter Soldier's true identity became a big topic.

He didn't like the spotlight being on him.

Swallowing thickly, she looked away.

* * *

 _Bucky watched as Rosalie Joy and Steve laughed and talked. He'd known Rosalie Joy for a few years at that point, and he took notice to how she looked after Steve. They had a close, friendly relationship and Bucky thought that was good! Steve had never been very good when it came to talking to girls, but he saw that it had become something different with her. Conversations flowed easily, they were comfortable with each other._

 _With Bucky, though, it was different._

 _As long as Rosalie Joy had Steve beside her, she'd maintain that playful attitude she'd have whenever she and Steve were together, but if it was just her and Bucky, she'd be as quiet as a mouse, sometimes, or just avoid talking at all. He couldn't understand why that was. She always seemed so confident. There was always something to talk about, always something to joke about._

 _But that was when Steve was present. It was like he was only there as a distraction until Rosalie and Bucky were left alone._

 _And that's what happened._

 _The three of them were supposed to hang out, check out where that Stark Expo was going to be built. But Steve was feeling under the weather so he couldn't make it. That didn't mean Rosalie Joy or Bucky couldn't make the best of it. Oh God knows they tried, too._

 _"So, uhm, the Stark Expo seems like it'd be swell," Rosalie murmured, shifting where she stood._

 _Bucky nodded. "Kinda wish Steve were here to see it."_

 _Rosalie Joy nodded wordlessly._

 _Bucky would be lying if he said there was a part of him that didn't find Rosalie Joy attractive. It didn't bother him that she was about a year younger than he was, she had this pull to her that made it nearly impossible to resist her. She had that kind of effect on anyone she met. She always said she never understood why people thought that way about her, but Steve and Bucky—rarely—said it was because she was so relatable and genuine to be around._

 _"Maybe we could go once it's finished." Bucky glanced at her. He saw her swallow thickly._

 _"Why not?" She turned and looked at him with a small smile. "I'm sure Howard Stark's got some kind of invention he'd like to show off."_

 _"He said this place is supposed to be the future."_

 _Rosalie Joy hummed in response._

 _"Do you know what kind of future you'd like?" he asked._

 _The question caught her off guard. That was a very un-Bucky-like question. He never really seemed all that concerned about the future._

 _"Uhm, I don't know—find a job, maybe get married." She shrugged._

 _"You don't want to get married?"_

 _"I don't see myself as a the typical housewife." Rosalie Joy let out a nervous chuckle. "That's how women are supposed to turn out, right? The pretty little housewives? It's just hard to picture myself as one."_

 _Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. Maybe he had a few dreams. He wasn't too sure yet. But there was a chance that he might want to get married in the future. He glanced at Rosalie Joy again._

 _"If you ask me, you'd make a perfect wife."_

 _A blush spread across Rosalie Joy's face. She wasn't sure why Bucky was suddenly asking questions about the future or whether or not she was planning on getting married! It didn't seem like something Bucky would focus on._

 _"W-Well, uhm, I'd feel sorry for the guy who'd get stuck with me."_

 **—Mad World—**

His shoulders were hunched, his hands shoved in his pockets. He tried his best not to look so frustrated, but he couldn't help it. The snippets of memories he'd gained since escaping HYDRA were barely fitting together, and for the ones that were, it was like figuring out the world's most difficult jigsaw puzzle. He'd have to figure out the details of those memories and determine whether or not they were truly as important as he hoped they were.

The memories he received were mostly of him and Captain America—some were of the two of them laughing, some were of the two of them talking but he couldn't make out the words. There were also some of him and his supposed wife. She still looked like a version of the woman beside him. His old self's wife still had the golden honey brown hair and the hazel eyes, but she had a beautiful smile that lit up an entire room. She made him feel something he hadn't remembered experiencing before.

Whenever he looked at the Angel and noticed how similar her features were with his old self's wife, he'd feel something stir in his chest.

There was a voice in the very far back of his mind, yelling at him and calling him all kinds of stupid for not figuring out _why_ there were similarities. He was supposed to be a master assassin yet he couldn't figure out why HYDRA's _other_ master assassin looked so similar to the woman in his distorted memories.

Briefly glancing at the woman by his side, he swallowed thickly.

Oh how he started hoping she wasn't who he was remembering.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey-yo! Hopefully this chapter was good. I tried adding a little more flashbacks into this chapter, though in future updates I might have one or two chapters that are solely flashbacks. Let me know what you guys think! If I have gotten the characters wrong in any way, let me know.**

 **Any German used in this chapter I got from Google Translate. If there's anyone here who is a fluent German speaker, I apologize if I got anything wrong.**

 _die stärksten und gefürchtetsten Gesicht von HYDRA_ **—German for the most powerful and feared face of HYDRA.**

 _mein kleiner Engel_ **—German for my little angel.**

 **Again, if someone here is a fluent German speaker, let me know if I got any of the German wrong in this chapter! I don't know a lot of German so I depend on Google Translate. In fact, I don't know how to speak a lot of other languages outside of English. But I'm willing to learn.**

 **Anywho, nothing in the 'Marvel' universe belongs to me. All I own are my characters and my fillers.**

 **To sidetrack for a moment, I started another 'Captain America' story called Alive. It's a Sam Wilson/OC story based during Winter Soldier, not after. If anyone's interested, I got the first two chapters up.**

 **Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story so far! Your support means the world to me.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

Steve laid back in his seat, his fingers tapping on the tabletop irritably. He had no information—even Natasha couldn't find something. He was frustrated. Sam's hunch on Rosie possibly being alive kept his mind going. Knowing Bucky was out there made him feel restless—he wanted to go out searching, but Sam wanted Steve to consider his options. With everything SHIELD had on the internet and HYDRA broken up, the possibility of running into someone who might hold some kind of grudge match against them were high. But that didn't mean Steve wouldn't try.

Weeks had gone by since he got out of the hospital and it felt like a lifetime ago when he faced Bucky in DC. He couldn't waist anymore time. The more time he spent _lounging around_ hoping he could figure something out, the more likely Buck would get away.

Steve couldn't let that happen. Not again.

* * *

"You remember her, don't you?" She looked at him from over the menu. They were at a small diner at the edge of a small, no-name Maine town. They made sure to spend less time brooding in whatever abandoned building they could find and spend _more_ time figuring out ways to leave. They both agreed that leaving the country would be a good idea—in regards to distancing themselves from Captain America and the HYDRA agents who'd kept them prisoner—but they'd need to figure out the details. The Angel made sure she had her hair pinned back, the look almost styled like a modernized 1940s look for women, with a light blue sundress to top it off. The Soldier found her sudden need to change wardrobe to be frustrating, but she had to remind him that if they wanted to remain undetected, they needed to make sure they wore more than the same rags they always wore.

But in his case, he wanted to wear layer upon layer of clothes. Plaid, button up shirts with a white undershirt underneath; a sweat jacket; another, slightly heavier jacket over that with the zipper zipped. Gloves for his hands, his hair tied back, a baseball cap on his head, old worn blue jeans, old tennis shoes. In all honesty, he looked homeless.

His piercing blue eyes met hers for a moment. He knew what— _who_ —she was talking about. The more he was starting to slowly, irritatingly, put together the pieces of those little parts of his life, the more he was slowly beginning to realize that maybe she was _her_.

Part of him was feeling a little more relieved, knowing that he was figuring out _one_ part of his life, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

If it turned out to be true, and she had really been his wife at some point, then there was no doubt the feeling of dread would intensify. He'd allowed her to get taken, experimented on, and used as a weapon. Her entire life had been taken away because he couldn't keep her safe.

"I'm remembering bits," he muttered bitterly. "It's taking longer than I thought."

Her hazel eyes narrowed. Things seemed to be going slower than she anticipated. Frustration and desperation bubbled in her stomach; how was he still struggling to regain his memories? She was in no position to talk, either—her memories, the ones she had regained, were a jumbled mess of things that didn't fit together. Insignificant moments, people she wouldn't have looked at twice—things that just couldn't make sense.

When their waiter came back for their orders, she politely told him what she and her _'fiancé'_ would be having. She could see the discomfort in the waiter's eyes as he regarded the Soldier. There was an obvious tension in his shoulders and a shiftiness in his stance.

"I believe I figured out a way to leave the country." She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. She could see a look sweep across his face for the briefest moment. "False documents."

His brows furrowed. "No," he snarled.

"Would you rather we steal someone else's?" she seethed. "How would we explain the difference in appearances?" Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the edge of the table. "I know how to perform credit card scams—apparently it was a requirement at HYDRA—and I know how to hack into bank accounts, untraced. We need the money and the documents if we're to leave."

His jaw tensed.

Her eyes lowered.

* * *

 _She sat in her chair, her face expressionless. Time seemed to have merged together and it didn't matter in the slightest. Rosalie Joy's head felt like it was missing something—something important. Those memory sweeps made her confused all the time. She spent so much of her time training, the enhancements, rarely going on missions, then she'd be going back into her cryotube._

 _But out of all of what she went through...she felt empty._

 _Nothing seemed to fulfill that emptiness. No successful mission, no slight praise in learning a new technique—nothing could fill that emptiness. It confused her but only intensified the empty feeling._

 _Hesitantly, she put her hand over her heart, pressing down on it. There was an ache—not from any kind of physical wound—it was an unidentifiable feeling. All the time she spent at HYDRA nearly desensitized her. Half the time, she couldn't tell what she was feeling._

 _She had forgotten how to feel._

 _When the steel door opened, she quickly lowered her hand and sat stiffly. She made sure her face remained expressionless._

 _"So this is her." A well dressed man stood in front of her, an almost smug smirk on his face. "Well, I have to say, she's just as beautiful as I've heard."_

 _Her hazel eyes remained forward._

 _"The infamous Angel of Death," he chuckled. "HYDRA's second most lethal assassin. I should feel honored." Kneeling down in front of her, his smirk twisted into a sickening looking smile. "I'm Alexander Pierce," he said, "and I'll be overseeing your duties from now on."_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the lame chapter, but I ran out of creative ideas. If you've got any ideas or suggestions you'd like to see in the story, please let me know because I am seriously out of ideas. I appreciate all of you who've reviewed this story and/or favorited/followed it, and I apologize if I disappointed you with this chapter or with my lack of creativity at the moment. I can try to add whatever ideas pop into my head in future updates, but I might as well let you guys know now. My ideas are out and I've run out of fumes.**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe, all I own are my characters and my fillers.**

 **Despite what I previously said, I will still continue this story. I hope I wasn't giving anyone the impression that I wasn't going to continue. I will. If you've got ideas on future updates, leave a review. I'd appreciate it greatly and I thank everyone who's reviewed this story. It means so much that you guys like it.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

 _"Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow." Bucky stood at the entrance of his and Joy's bedroom, a bittersweet smile on his face. Joy had been heartbroken to say the least, but she wasn't going to show it. She wanted to look strong—for Bucky. So Joy smiled, trying to keep her emotions in check._

 _"That's...fantastic," she said, trying to keep her voice steady._

 _Bucky was quick to notice the change in his wife. When he first got drafted, she had acted the same way—forcing herself to be happy and supportive, but unconsciously withdrawing._

 _Walking over, Bucky wrapped his arms around Joy and pulled her to him. "I'm sorry," he murmured._

 _"It's not your fault." She buried her face into his chest—considering how small she was compared to him, that was as far as she went_ _—and took steady breaths. "I just worry about you sometimes."_

 _"Only **sometimes**?" Bucky teased._

 _Rosalie Joy managed a giggle, wrapping her arms around her husband's middle. "Maybe all the time."_

 _Pulling back, Bucky gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised. "It'll be like I never even left."_

 _Rosalie Joy nodded, her expression becoming solemn._

 _"Hey." Bucky held her face, giving his usual broad, charismatic smile. "I'll come back. I'll always come back for my Joy."_

 **—Mad World—**

The Winter Soldier couldn't help himself. From time to time he'd steal an occasional look the Angel's way, just to look at her. He'd studied her appearance, but for some reason, when he looked at her again at that moment—with her in the middle of completing a credit card scam—he felt something foreign rush over him. That honey brown hair that caught his attention when he first encountered her was curled down her back; she managed to steal a long white sundress and for some reason, he couldn't stop looking at how she wore it.

"You're staring," she stated, not looking up from her work.

He frowned.

She looked up at him, her hazel eyes were serious but held an exhaustion in them.

Walking over, he knelt down to her eye-level, narrowing his eyes. With more gentleness than he'd ever used, he tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

"How much do you remember?" he asked.

Her brows furrowed. "Remember?" The look that swept across his face made her lower her gaze. "I have bits and pieces—some of them make sense, others..." She turned away from him, trying to focus on her work.

"I want to try something," he stated firmly.

"Try what?" she asked, not looking away from her work.

Reluctantly, his robotic arm came out and gently turned her face over, and when she was looking at him—with a look of confusion on her face—he leaned in and put his lips on hers. It wasn't like a kiss in the traditional sense, it was more about _feeling_. He wanted to know if the _feeling_ of it would trigger some kind of memory.

She pulled back, her eyes wide but her face still expressionless. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

A hardened look swept across the Soldier's face. "I..." He cut himself off before he could finish.

Looking at him for a moment, the Angel felt something rush over her. Even though the Soldier's face was almost unreadable, there was still a look of frustration in his eyes. He was trying to figure something out.

"It was to remember," she stated.

He looked at her, his lips pursing. "You're making me feel something I can't understand," he murmured, looking just as embarrassed as he was frustrated. "I need to know what it is."

She looked down, thinking it over. Since the moment they started traveling together, the memories they managed to recover held people in them that vaguely resembled each other. Would she have been able to do that on her own?

"If I turned out to be his... _wife_ , what would that mean for you?" she murmured.

"Are you saying...?" he growled, his eyes looking at her with an intensity she hadn't seen before.

"I said _if_ ," she exclaimed. "I _think_ I might be." She looked at him. "I just want to make sure."

* * *

 _"You're getting married?" Steve looked at the invitation with wonder and excitement. He'd been elated that Bucky and Rosie had been dating—he'd be lying if he said he didn't kind of want them to get together._

 _"That's right," Bucky said, wrapping an arm around Rosie's waist. "I'd like you to be my best man."_

 _"We wanted the engagement to be a surprise," Rosie giggled, the brightest smile anyone had ever seen on her face. "Do you think you can make it?"_

 _"That shouldn't even be a question." Steve's smile widened as he looked at his best friends. "You both should know I wouldn't miss this for the world."_

 _"Good," Bucky exclaimed, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. "The date's Christmas Eve, it was Joy's choice."_

 _"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Rosie teased._

 _Wrapping his other arm around her waist, Bucky brought her as close to him as possible. "Why would I think it's a bad thing?" he chuckled._

 _"I'm really happy for you guys," Steve said._

 _Rosie and Bucky threw thankful smiles Steve's way. He'd always been so supportive of everything they did._

 _They couldn't have asked for a better friend._

 **—Mad World—**

Thankful that his injuries healed quicker than normal, Steve was able to go out and physically search for Rosie and Bucky in what felt like a lifetime of doing nothing. Sam agreed to help—and to supervise, if need be—to make the search go by quicker. Steve said that he anticipated that Bucky and Rosie, if she had endured the same fate as him, would probably be out of the country. But Sam wanted to consider their options.

"They must've really meant a lot to you," Sam exclaimed.

"We pretty much did everything together," Steve sighed. "They were my closest friends. It was hard imagining what life would've been like without them."

Sam nodded.

* * *

The Angel showed her finished work to the Soldier. It had taken some time—and that whole incident with him... _kissing?_ her had been so unexpected, it took her longer than necessary to recover—but she managed to finish. She just had to keep reminding herself to not get so distracted by his presence.

"You're positive this is going to work?" he murmured, looking it over.

"I've performed these countless times." The Angel's eyes narrowed slightly at him. "We'll be given access to the money we need and we have all the necessary information to leave the country."

He looked at her again. That feeling was starting to resurface.

"If you turned out to be her," he said hesitantly—he hadn't answered her question from earlier, he chose to just ignore it, "I would probably feel guilty."

Her lips pursed. "Why?"

"I don't know." He pushed aside her completed work.

"Yes you do," she murmured. "We've been doing this for too long. You _know_ why."

Before anything else could be said, a muffled shot could be heard and the Soldier's face scrunched up in confusion before he reached back and pulled back a tranquilizer.

The Angel's eyes flickered to the window that was nearest to them—in an abandoned house they were staying in—and saw a shadowed figure quickly—but not quick enough—try to hide.

When he started stumbling, she caught him before he fell heavily to the floor. Quickly dragging his body out of any possible lines of fire, she checked to see if he had any guns on him. Finding one hidden in his jeans, she pulled it out.

He was blinking heavily at her, straining to get up.

"Stay down," she murmured, putting a hand on his chest. For what seemed like a second, he swore he saw genuine concern on her face. "You can't fight, not in this state."

"I..." he mumbled.

"Let me handle this," she murmured almost bitterly, but it wasn't aimed at him. "You've got to stay safe. You _have_ to stay safe."

 _'I just worry about you sometimes.'_

He swallowed thickly. Nodding, he saw the almost relieved look on her face as she turned and quietly went off.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey-yo! Hope you guys liked this update! I was thinking that the next one will be solely a flashback chapter. What do you guys think? If it is, what should the flashback be of? If you've got any ideas, let me know!**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe, that all belongs to Stan Lee, the writers/producers of the movie[s], etc.**

 **To sidetrack for a moment, I am excited for the third CA movie to come out! It looks really good. I am thinking of using the third movie as a kind of sequel to this one—is that a good idea? Also, I was thinking of adding little mentions of the second Avengers in this story, depending on how long I choose to write it, and maybe little bits from Ant-Man. What do you guys say? Good idea or no?**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

 _"I don't get what you see in me." Rosalie Joy looked up at Bucky with almost a pitiful look on her face. "I don't get it."_

 _They were in Bucky's apartment, just trying to enjoy an evening together. It was still in the early stages of their relationship, and they were working on getting to know each other all over again. But it felt...forced, like they were trying too hard. But it had only been a little over a month and a half since they started dating, and they were willing to make it work if need be._

 _Bucky looked over at Rosalie Joy with a solemn frown._

 _"Joy, where is this coming from?" he asked. He'd noticed how she'd get anxious whenever they spent time together, though she tried her best to hide it._

 _"It's just...out of all the girls you could be with, why would you want me?" She leaned against the countertop in Bucky's kitchen, helping him prepare dinner. "There's nothing special about me—I just..."_

 _"Hey, hey." Bucky walked over and placed his hands on Joy's shoulders, giving her a small smile. "Don't think you're anything less than special. You're my girl!" His gaze softened when he saw the look that swept across his girlfriend's face. "You want to know why I chose you?" he asked. She nodded. "Because no other girl will_ _ever compare to you. You're smart and kind and funny—I don't know how you do it, but you always manage to make me feel like I'm on top of the world."_

 _"But..." she interrupted._

 _He gently brushed his thumb over her lips. "But nothing," he said gently. "You are and always will be my best girl, my Joy." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her against him. "I want to take care of you, I want you to know that you'll always be more important to me than anyone else."_

 _A small smile came across Joy's face at that._

O.O.O.O

 _By the end of the night, once Bucky and Rosalie Joy had finished their dinner, Bucky managed to convince Joy that he'd wash the dishes, since she was a guest in his home and he didn't want her to do anymore work._

 _"Is there anything else you want to do tonight?" Rosalie Joy asked. The question was innocent enough, and Bucky knew that his girlfriend would have no kind of ulterior motives. They'd both agreed, when they first started dating, not to jump into anything too intimate—especially Bucky, who had a bad habit of doing that with a lot of the girls he'd been with in the past._

 _A smile spread across Bucky's face. "I thought, maybe, I'd put on some music." After he finished the dishes, he put on some music and stood in front of Rosalie Joy, extending his hand._

 _A playful smile spread across Rosalie Joy's lips. "Are you asking me to dance?" she teased._

 _"I certainly am," he chuckled._

 _Taking his hand, she allowed herself to be led to the center of the living room and sway to the music. Bucky made sure to keep an arm securely around her waist, keeping them as close together as possible. Despite the moments of rockiness in their relationship, the moments where they were really happy together made everything else seem meaningless._

 _For Bucky, if it meant seeing a genuine smile on his girlfriend's face, even for a moment, then he felt like he did something right._

 _He felt his heart swell a little when Rosalie Joy rested her head against his chest, the hand he was holding while they danced going to his shoulder._

 _It felt like nothing could ruin that moment._

O.O.O.O

 _After about three months of dating, Bucky and Rosalie Joy were noticing things were starting to smooth over, but there were still things they needed to work out. Sometimes they got into fights—Bucky felt as if he wasn't doing a good enough job as her boyfriend; that, for some reason, he was mistreating her. Rosalie Joy would try and tell him he was doing perfectly fine, but he'd get so frustrated it'd become a yelling match._

 _There were some moments where Rosalie Joy's insecurities and self doubts would get the best of her and she'd end up second guessing their relationship—why would Bucky would end up with someone like her, someone so ordinary; she wasn't pretty enough to be his girlfriend; she wasn't smart enough; maybe they rushed into everything too quickly; maybe if they waited a little longer before going out, none of this would've happened—and it not only hurt Buck that she'd think their relationship was a possible mistake, it hurt him that she'd think she wasn't good enough for him. Bucky told Rosalie Joy more times than he could count how perfect she was for him, and she'd believe him for a moment before it would become meaningless._

 _So, on a really nice Saturday afternoon, Rosalie Joy was walking with Steve. She and Bucky were currently not speaking—they had another fight._

 _"It was never this bad," she sighed. "I just don't know what to do."_

 _Steve looked up at Rosie with a small frown. He had no experience when it came to relationships, girls weren't exactly lining up to go out with him. But Rosie was his friend, his best friend at that, and he'd try his best to help her through it._

 _"I've thought about breaking up with him," she said softly._

 _"What?" Steve exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief._

 _"Steve, there's only so much a person can take before it becomes too much." Rosie's voice sounded heartbroken. "Don't get me wrong, I care about Bucky; I really do. It just...I don't know. If we can't work out our problems, I can't see how we can still be together."_

 _"You can't leave him," Steve exclaimed. "I've never seen Buck this happy before."_

 _Rosie looked at him doubtfully._

 _"You saw how he was before," he went on. "With you, it's like he's a completely different person. He's dedicated to this, Rosie." The look in Steve's eyes made Rosalie Joy almost feel bad for even thinking that way. Almost._

 _Rosie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously._

O.O.O.O

 _It had taken quite some time for Rosalie Joy to get back to her apartment. She had spent the past couple minutes having time to think over what Steve had told her after they went their separate ways. So, to her surprise, when she entered her apartment, the last person she thought to see was Bucky._

 _Rosalie Joy's eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She had given Bucky a key to her apartment after two months of them dating._

 _Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I...wanted to see you," he said, not looking her in the eye._

 _"What makes you think I want to see you?" Rosalie Joy asked._

 _"Please, Joy," Bucky exclaimed, "can we stop this?"_

 _"I don't know." She threw her arms up in exasperation. "We keep saying we will, but nothing changes, Bucky. Nothing. We're good for a little while, then we fight."_

 _Walking over, Bucky hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry," he murmured._

 _Sighing, Rosalie Joy looked up at him._

 _'He's dedicated to this, Rosie.' Maybe Steve was right. She could see the desperation in Bucky's eyes—he wanted the relationship to work._

 _If Bucky was truly willing to give it a shot, then so would Rosalie Joy._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the wait! Also, sorry for the possible sloppy chapter. I wanted to see how I'd be able to write just a flashback chapter, and I want to believe I did a good job, but I'll leave that up to all of you. Leave a review on what you think!**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe, it all belongs to their respective owners.**

 **The new CA movie is only a couple days away from being released, and I've been hearing it's a really good movie. I am super excited for it! Hopefully it is as good as people say it is. I digress.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

Carefully maneuvering her way through the house, the Angel tried finding out where the shooters were hiding out. Quickly glancing over to where the Soldier, her lips pursed when she saw his eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy.

Looking out the nearest window, she opened it as quietly as she could and knelt down, getting her gun ready. Her gaze quickly snapped to a figure hidden in the thick layers of branches in a nearby tree—he had a sniper rifle aimed at the house, face paint to blend in with the shrubberies, camouflage, and thick layers of various ammunition.

Aiming the handgun in his direction, the Angel let out a single shot between the man's eyes. He stumbled out of the trees, his rifle falling to the ground heavily, letting out some accidental shots.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Angel saw something move a couple of yards from the house. It was a woman, dressed in the standard HYDRA attire, except it was colored differently, probably for disguise.

The Angel managed to shoot her in the forehead.

Quickly moving away from the window, she was about to go to another one when gunfire rained down on the house. She quickly threw herself onto her stomach. The windows exploded into tiny shards of glass, scraping her exposed skin as it came down on her. Holes erupted from the walls—chunks of plaster and drywall scattered everywhere. When the shooting stopped, she waited for a moment, trying to see if something else would happen. Carefully sitting up, she jumped just a fraction when HYDRA operatives came through the broken windows and smashed the doors down.

All the operatives were aiming guns at her, their faces covered. When they started splitting down the middle, a man dressed uncharacteristically casual walked up to her.

He tsked at her, shaking his head almost condescendingly. "This isn't apart of your mission, _Anioł_ ," he sighed, a light Polish accent lacing his words. A smirk spread across his face.

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't know you."

"You may not know who I am, but I know who _you_ are," he said, pointing at her. There was a glint in his eyes that made the Angel scowl. "When you were sent on your retrieval mission, I was sent to overlook that everything went smoothly. And what do I see here? You and our _Żołnierz_ doing...this." The man motioned to what was splayed out on the table. "Now tell me, why would one of HYDRA's most skilled assassins try and do this?" he asked, arching a brow at her.

"You don't own me—us," she snarled, "we're not one of your little toys."

"That's where you're wrong," he said. "You're ours. Where can you go where we won't find you?"

Narrowing her eyes, the Angel had all these scenarios running through her mind on how she could take them down. Their guns wouldn't be a problem—she'd shake it off.

Her priority was to get herself and the Soldier out safely.

"Now, _Anioł_ , if you could hand over the gun." He extended his hand, leaning over just a little for her to give the weapon to him. Looking at the handgun, she glanced over at where the Soldier was against the wall. He was still unconscious. She looked back at him.

"He was my husband, wasn't he?" she asked. The Polish operative's brows shot up, his lips pursing. "In the 1940s, before either of us were taken, I was his wife; he was my husband. Am I right?" He didn't say anything. She slowly came to her feet; the guns from the others followed her movements. "His name was James Buchanan Barnes," she said slowly, her voice low. " _My_ name was Rosalie Joy O'Grady. I married him on Christmas Eve. I knew him since high school. My best friend was Captain America." Her eyes narrowed. "Now tell me, why would HYDRA want to take that away?"

The Polish operative's eyes were wide, his mouth set so thin it looked almost painful. She could make out the look in his eyes—fear, anxiousness, uncertainty. But it was the fear that stood out the most.

In a swift motion—too quick for the armed operatives to react—she shot the Polish operative in the head before quickly using the rest of her bullets gunning down some of the others. Those who were left shot at her, and while she was quick to move out of the way of the flying bullets, she got grazed and one hit her lower arm.

She quickly killed the other operatives—snapping their necks, using their guns to shoot them down, using her pressure point techniques to land fatal blows. She tried moving as quickly and as swiftly as she could, and when the last of them fell, she let out a shaky breath. Practically marching over to where the Soldier—James—was leaning, she gently touched his face.

 _They must have used a heavy sedative,_ she thought solemnly. _We have to leave. No doubt others heard the gunshots._

Gently patting his face, the Angel—who decided in that moment she'd rather go by Rosalie than her HYDRA name—hoped her companion would snap out of his drug induced sleep.

When his eyes fluttered open, he blinked a couple times before he finally started focusing on her.

"B-Blood," he slurred, his eyes narrowing at her appearance. She was covered in blood—both hers and the operatives'.

"We have to go," she murmured, gently brushing his hair out of his face. "There was a lot of gunfire—I'm positive the authorities have been called."

He let out a slight groan, struggling to get to his feet.

* * *

It had taken the rest of the day to get out of the little town they were staying in. The nearest town wasn't for a couple miles, and in Rosalie's current state and James—a name she found to be better than just _'Soldier'_ —that wasn't good at all. They had to stay ahead of the authorities, who had been called and showed up long after Rosalie and James had left.

James had finally shaken the last of the sedatives out of his system, and needless to say, when he noticed the wounds on Rosalie, he wasn't pleased. He fixed her up the best he could; using strips from his shirt to stop the gunshot wound on her arm and he tried bandaging her other injuries the best he could. Rosalie tried assuring him she'd be fine, but he shook his head, saying he had to take care of her.

 _'I want to take care of you...'_

Rosalie looked up at him. His shoulders were hunched, his hair was tucked behind his ears.

"You're staring," he muttered, imitating what she had said earlier.

"I know," she sighed. "I think I'm starting to understand these memories. It just took me a while."

He looked at her, curious.

"I think...I think I was your—his—wife," she said, her voice sounding soft. "It makes sense. I'd see you in my head, but you're different. I thought it was my mind playing tricks, but you kept reappearing in different moments and..." She looked down. "There's still a lot I don't quite understand, but _that_ is something I'm certain of."

When Rosalie turned to look at James, she noticed the look on his face. It was...shock, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, her face looking stoic. "You asked me what I remembered. That's what I remember."

* * *

 _Bucky and Joy were both laying in bed, enjoying the afterglow that came with their marriage. They'd been on their honeymoon for a total of two days and they were loving every minute of it. Bucky made sure to spoil Joy in every way he thought possible; Joy made sure to show Bucky all the love she felt for him and try her best to be the greatest wife she could._

 _"How are you always so warm?" Joy yawned, burying her face in the crook of Bucky's neck._

 _Bucky chuckled, tightening his grip around Joy's waist._

 _"The one thing I'm looking forward to is waking up like this every day," he murmured, closing his eyes._

 _Joy giggled. "I bet." Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. "It was really nice of your family to pay for our honeymoon. Steve, too."_

 _"We'll have to pay them back."_

 _Joy nodded._

 _Shifting beneath his wife so he was half leaning over her, Bucky smiled down at his wife._

 _"What?" she murmured, looking a little confused._

 _Leaning down, he kissed her, his lips trailing along her jaw and down her neck. "I love you," he murmured, giving one final kiss. "God, I love you."_

 _Gently lifting his face so he was looking at her, Joy smiled up at him. "I love you more," she sighed._

* * *

Steve looked up at Sam. A newspaper had been thrown onto the table in front of them at the little café they were at. They'd traveled from DC to Pennsylvania, hoping to find _something_ on Bucky and, possibly, Rosie.

"What's this?" Steve asked, picking up the newspaper.

Sam pointed to the headlines. "Read that," he sighed.

Frowning slightly, Steve looked at what Sam was talking about, his eyes widening. In a small town in Maine, at least a dozen men and women were found dead in and around an abandoned house, where gunshots had been reported. Police tried to gather as much evidence as they could from the crime scene—and they were able to find something. Though the crime scene had been swept clean for any possible prints from the ones responsible, they managed to find a print. It was a woman's.

"They were HYDRA agents," Sam said. Steve's eyes flickered to Sam's for a moment. "At least, what was left of HYDRA."

"You're saying Rosie's behind this?" Steve asked, grazing over the article again.

"Who else do you think is behind this?" Sam arched a brow at him. "I'm telling you, she's alive."

Putting the newspaper back on the table, Steve leaned back in his seat. It was becoming harder to deny that maybe Rosie had suffered the same fate as Bucky.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry it took so long to put this chapter up! Let me know what you think of it. Did it seem too soon for Rosalie Joy to be putting what she remembered together? I mean, I know it's fifteen chapters in, but I don't want it to seem like I'm pushing the story for some kind of conclusion. There's still some backstory I'm thinking of putting in for Rosalie Joy—it's mostly been about her relationship with Bucky and, for a little bit, with Steve. Maybe I can start writing in flashbacks about Rosalie Joy's family. What do you guys say?**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe; everything belongs to Stan Lee/the producers of the movie[s]. I own Rosalie Joy, her family, any other characters I add to the story, and the fillers I put in.**

 **To sidetrack for a moment, I saw the new CA movie and I loved it! I love the new Spider-Man, the guy who's the Black Panther did a wonderful job, and I loved how all the characters didn't overwhelm the movie at all. I digress from my little nerd moment.**

 **I was thinking of writing a sequel to this story based on the 'Civil War' storyline. What do you guys say?**

 **If you've got suggestions for future updates, leave a review; if you've got suggestions for possible characters you'd like to have added to the story, leave a review or PM; if you've got ideas on anything at all, leave a review or PM me.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

Steve was drumming his fingers almost irritably, him and Sam had traveled a great distance from where they were in Pennsylvania to where they heard the news of the slaughter in Maine. Him and Sam were looking through every abandoned building, every homeless shelter—every possible place that could hide two assassins. But no matter where they looked, or how thorough it was, or how long it took them, they always ended up empty-handed.

So, despite the fact that he had little to no knowledge on the advancements of technology, even though he'd been out of the ice for as long as he had, Steve decided he'd do a little more research.

"This her?" Sam turned his laptop toward Steve. Steve's eyes narrowed a fraction at the sight of Rosie on the screen. It took a lot of time and effort to find documents from when Steve was in the Military—given that SHIELD was in the beginning stages of forming, and a lot of the people who were involved in SHIELD's advancements or just working with SHIELD as a means of helping with the war had their personal documents kept heavily under lock and key—but when Steve saw that picture of Rosie, he felt a heaviness weigh on his chest.

"Yeah," he sighed.

Turning the laptop back to him, Sam studied the picture for a moment. "Rosalie Joy O'Grady," he murmured.

"Rosalie was her grandmother's name," Steve said. "Her Mom always said that when Rosie was born, she was their pride and joy—so they named her Joy, too."

Sam nodded. "I'd try calling your friend again," he suggested, "just in case there's more information we're missing."

Steve nodded.

"And she gave you everything she found on your other friend?"

"Yeah," Steve sighed.

Sam sighed, closing his laptop. "See if she can find anymore, just in case." Sam threw an exhausted look Steve's way. "The more we've got to go on, the quicker this'll be."

* * *

By the time Rosalie and James made it to the next town over, news of the slaughter from the previous night had started spreading, and they decided in that moment that maybe they needed to lie low—possibly even stay out of the public eye for a while.

"Let me see your arm." James stepped in front of Rosalie, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweat jacket, a slight scowl on his face.

"I'm fine," she insisted, trying to push past him.

He quickly grabbed her shoulder and tried as gently as possible to bring her back.

"You're not fine," he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. " _We're_ not fine."

"We need to keep moving." Rosalie brushed some of her hair out of her face. The way she said it left no room for arguing.

So they kept walking, and Rosalie's mind was whirling. The police didn't have a clear identity on them, so her plan to have herself and James leave the country could still happen.

"Is this all worth it?" she asked.

James' eyes lowered a fraction. "We have to make it worth it," he muttered.

Sighing, Rosalie gently rubbed her injured arm.

After walking about a mile without much talking, though occasionally James would throw looks Rosalie's way, the silence had finally been broken. "C-Could you...uhm...tell me what you remember?" he murmured; his voice so quiet Rosalie had to nearly strain to hear it.

Rosalie looked up at him, a deep frown settled on her face. She thought it over, as if trying to figure out what order she could try and start from. "I remember...seeing him smiling—he was always smiling. There was always something happy, I..." Rosalie shut her mouth, trying to find the words. "I remember an invitation to a wedding; you were there and...me? We were smiling and you kept laughing at something I said." Rosalie stopped for a moment, assessing the words she said. "Then sometimes I'm confused, I don't know where I am. It was HYDRA, I get it now. It'd go back and forth between little moments before HYDRA and after," she sighed. Rosalie looked up at James. "What do you remember?"

* * *

 _"Again."_

 _Her hardened hazel eyes looked up at the operatives with silent fury. She had been training relentlessly for hours—every opponent they made her face she effortlessly took down; yet they still made her fight._

 _"Your fighting is sloppy," a female operative said, her voice sounding almost void of emotion. "It's predictable. We'll do this over and over until you get it right."_

 _The steel door opened and the Angel was faced with another opponent._

 **— —**

 _The Angel sat in her cell. Her skin and hair were coated in a layer of sweat; she was forced out of practice for a mission. She'd been sitting in her cell for a total of twenty minutes while her mission was being discussed. When her door opened, she didn't bother turning to see who was standing there._

 _"Angel," the voice barked. She turned, her gaze obediently meeting the heated look of the man in front of her. He handed her a file, not saying another word. When she opened it, she was greeted with a few pages of info and a picture of her target. The Angel's eyes narrowed some as she studied he picture—in the very back of her mind, she swore she saw him before; only for a split second before brushing the thought aside. "He has some valuable information," the man stated, his voice curt. "You're expected to gather it then eliminate him. Do you understand?"_

 _The Angel's eyes looked up at him for a moment. "Understood."_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Honestly, I don't have a reason or an excuse on why this chapter wasn't up sooner; but hopefully you guys still enjoy it! Let me know what you think; give any ideas or suggestions you have; leave a review or a PM on any changes you think should happen. Hopefully this story isn't being rushed or anything. But I'm serious when I say leave a suggestion or idea. If it feels like this story's getting a bit repetitive, it's because I'm low on ideas and I need help from you guys.**

 **So tell me about any side-plots you've got; tell me about OC's you'd like to see added to the story; what kinds of flashbacks should I put in! The more help I get from you guys, the quicker we can move on from this repetitive cycle.**

 **Quickly, nothing in 'Marvel' is mine. All I own are my characters and my fillers.**

 **Who do you think the Angel's target was in the flashback? What should Rosalie be told about Bucky's [though he's not quite there yet] memories? When should Sam and Steve find them? What about HYDRA and any other authority?**

 **I really like to know what you guys think of my chapters. It gives me feedback and something to go off of when I write future updates. So please review! It's important.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

 _Rosalie Joy had stopped what she was doing to just take a quick look at the slight commotion that was going on. Wounded men were being brought out of vehicles and into the first tent that would provide the best medical assistance possible. Rosalie Joy had a feeling of how bad it was out there_ _—she'd overheard stories from other soldiers who managed to survive whatever horrors they faced in battle. Some of them were brutal and made Rosalie Joy's blood run cold. She couldn't even imagine what it was like out there._

 _"Rosie!" Turning, Rosalie Joy was greeted with the anxious, borderline mortified, look on Steve's face and the slightly confused expression on Peggy's._

 _"What?" She quickly met Steve halfway, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Is something wrong?" Steve had since come to the Military base in response to his 'Star Spangled Man With a Plan' campaign_ _—which, from what Rosalie Joy could assume, hadn't gone over well with the remaining soldiers on base._

 _"You saw the men that just came in right?" Steve exclaimed, putting his hands on his friend's shoulders, as if holding her in place._

 _Rosalie Joy nodded slowly. "Yeah, they look awful."_

 _"Those men are from the 107th."_

 _Rosalie Joy felt as if a weight had been dropped in her stomach. "What's that supposed to mean?" she said, her voice trembling._

 _Steve turned to Peggy. "What did you tell me? It was about Schmidt_ _—?"_

 _"The audience Steve performed in front of today, and whatever men they brought in, they were what remained of the 107th," Peggy said, still looking confused. "The others were captured or killed."_

 _Rosalie Joy felt tears rise in her eyes. "Please tell me you saw Bucky," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please."_

 _"Rosie..." Steve said, his voice going soft._

 _Rosalie Joy tried stifling her sobs, trying to quickly wipe the tears from her eyes. "Don't you dare say it," she whispered. "Don't you dare say he's dead."_

 _Steve felt himself crumbling at the sight of his friend. Rosalie Joy was typically so strong and confident—at least from what he's always seen her as_ _—and seeing her struggling to keep her composure, knowing that her husband would either be dead or captured, broke his heart._

 _"He's not dead." Steve tried for a smile. Rosalie Joy's watery gaze met his. He felt his heart break even more. "Buck will come back_ _—don't you worry, OK?"_

 _Quickly wiping her eyes, Rosalie Joy nodded. "I'm holding it to you, Rogers. You're the Star Spangled Man With a Plan, after all."_

 _Steve couldn't help but smile._

O.O.O.O

 _Rosalie Joy hadn't seen much of Steve, or even Peggy, since the knowledge of the 107th had been shared. That worried Rosalie Joy. It was bad enough she had to worry about what happened to her husband, she also had to worry about why her best friend had disappeared and where her instructor had run off to._

 _"O'Grady!" Phillips stormed up to her, looking more peeved than usual._

 _"Sir."_

 _"Do you have any idea where Carter is?" he exclaimed._

 _Rosalie Joy's brows furrowed. "I don't know," she said. "I've barely seen her today."_

 _A look swept across Phillips' face. "Would you at least know where Rogers ran off?"_

 _"I only saw him once today," she said, "a couple hours ago."_

 _Phillips let out a noise of frustration before walking off._

 _Rosalie Joy took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She prayed Steve hadn't done something wreckless._

O.O.O.O

 _Nightfall hadn't come quick enough, and Rosalie Joy found herself sleeping without much trouble. She'd been busying herself as much as she could to keep herself distracted. She knew if she stopped working even for a second, she'd be thinking about Bucky, then she'd be thinking about Steve. Peggy had all but returned less than an hour ago, looking anxious and a little worried._

 _Rosalie Joy tried asking where Steve was, but she only said he was taking care of something important._

 _So, not only did Rosalie Joy have a missing husband to worry about, she also had to worry about her best friend doing something unspeakably stupid and wreckless._

O.O.O.O

 _By midafternoon, Rosalie Joy was forcing herself to keep going. She'd been delivering paperwork, helping with a small handful of wounded soldiers that were brought back_ _—things that didn't seem like much to do, but kept her preoccupied. She needed to keep going. But when some of the uninjured soldiers started running toward the entrance of the campsite, Rosalie Joy couldn't help but follow._

 _There was a large group of men marching up to the camp, some riding on a tank. The closer the men were, the more obvious it was that they were beaten and filthy._

 _Murmurs started rising between the men when it became obvious that Steve was the one leading the men back._

 _By the time Steve and the men make it to camp, Steve goes and approaches Phillips, saying something. Pushing her way through the men, Rosalie Joy stood in front of Steve right as his conversation with Phillips ends. Embracing him, she felt a sense of relief wash through her, but there was still a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach._

 _Steve was back, but she couldn't seem to find Bucky in the crowd of men._

 _Once the embrace ended, she punched Steve on the forearm, a glare on her face. "I was worried sick about you," she snapped. "You don't just go running off like that!"_

 _An apologetic smile spread across Steve's face as he regarded Rosalie Joy. "I'm sorry," he said. He leaned down and his smile broadened just a fraction. "But I think there's someone here who'd be thrilled to see you." He nodded behind her, causing Rosie's brows to furrow a little before she turned. In the crowd of men who were talking amongst themselves, she saw Bucky pushing his way up, he paused for a brief moment when he saw his wife. Her hands flew over her mouth when she saw him_ _—he was covered in dirt and his clothes were just as filthy._

 _Bucky hurried over to her, grabbing her face in his hands and pulling her in for a kiss; one she happily returned. When it ended, he rested his forehead against hers, struggling to keep the tears in his eyes at bay._

 _"You're not hurt?" she whispered. He shook his head._

 _Pushing aside some big gun that was strapped around his shoulder, Bucky wrapped his arms around his wife's waist and held her tightly against him._

 _"Hey, let's hear it for Captain America."_

 **—Mad World** **—**

"Let me see your arm." Rosalie looked up at James with a solemn frown. "It could get infected. We can't afford that right now."

Looking at her arm, she noticed how she bled threw the bandages. Though it hurt, she had learned to ignore pain. A gunshot wound and a few grazes weren't so bad—in Rosalie's opinion, she'd endured worse.

Sighing, she let him see her arm. As he took off the bandages, Rosalie watched him carefully. They decided to pass by the next town over, going to a nearby bus station a couple miles out. For the most part, it wasn't too occupied by others.

Rosalie watched the look of serious concentration on James' face. A few unruly strands of his hair hung around his face while he worked. The way his hands worked on her injury—it was unusually gentle, even with his mechanical arm.

"You're so gentle," she murmured.

His eyes flickered up to hers for a moment. "I don't want you to get hurt."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey, everybody! Sorry for the wait and sorry if this chapter felt sloppy/poorly-written. If you've got any ideas/suggestions for future updates, leave a review or a PM! I'd love to know what you guys think.**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe! All I own are my characters and the clothes in my closet.**

 **OK, so this is where your reviews are important! I've heard people—well, read on the interwebs but whatever—say things like Bucky being prosecuted for all things he's done as the Winter Soldier over the years—whatever records they have on it, at least. Those kinds of topics got me thinking—what if I wrote a one-shot, or at least a small multi-chaptered story, about Rosalie Joy and Bucky being brought in front of a judge for everything they've done—murders, etc.! If I decide to write something like that, it wouldn't follow this story it'd be separate. Chances are, I'd write the two of them having enough memories to understand who they are and who Steve is.**

 **What do you guys think?**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

Rosalie looked at James carefully. Those blue eyes of his were concentrating hard while he bandaging up her wounds. Rosalie let out a silent sigh.

"What?" James' eyes looked up at her for a moment before concentrating back on the task at hand. His fingers were moving skillfully. By the time he finished bandaging her up and she still didn't say why she was staring at him, James looked up at her with a stony expression.

"When you kissed me back there," she said quietly, her voice sounding more vulnerable than he'd ever heard before, "was it really to remember?"

James lowered his gaze, his robotic hand clenching and unclenching.

Hesitantly, Rosalie lifted James' face up and studied him. His hair was getting longer and his facial hair was starting to become pronounced. There was an exhaustion in his eyes, mingling with the fear and uncertainty he felt. Rosalie studied James' face—she wanted to make sure he was the man in her memories. They looked the same, only James was disheveled, filthier, and more on edge. An image of the man in her memories—the man who was her husband and named Bucky—came into Rosalie's mind. He was smiling. His eyes were lively and didn't have a single care in the world. He was clean shaven and didn't look filthy.

Rosalie compared the face in her memory to the man before her.

Her fingers ghosted across his cheek, just barely feeling the facial hair poking against her fingertips. He didn't move, he didn't say anything.

Leaning, she planted her mouth against his.

He still didn't move. Not until a full minute and a half later, when he started to hesitantly add pressure. One of his hands gently held the back of her head, keeping her in place.

 **—Mad World** **—**

 _Joy buried her face against Bucky's chest. It had been a long day for both of them and they were looking forward to an evening together. Normally, it would've probably consisted of enjoying some music and talking, or whatever else they could think of that they found relaxing, but Bucky had convinced Joy of something a little more...physical._

 _For Joy, that was probably a very good way to relax._

 _Shifting a little so he was laying on his side next to her, Bucky gave his most relaxed smile._

 _"What?" she murmured, pressing the sheets against her chest._

 _"Has anyone ever told you just how beautiful you are?" He scooted closer so their noses were inches apart._

 _Joy sighed dramatically. "I don't think so," she said, trying to hide the playful smirk that wanted to spread across her face._

 _"Well, I'll be damned," he murmured. "We can't have that."_

 _"No, I don't think we can." Joy bit her bottom lip._

 _Planting a heavy kiss on her lips, Bucky leaned back to speak. "You"—he kissed her again—"are so"—another kiss_ _—"beautiful."_

 _Joy giggled, giving Bucky one last kiss before pulling back. "And you, Mr. Barnes, are very handsome."_

 _Bucky smiled brightly, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her to him._

* * *

Steve had discovered some information that he thought would be useful. He had discovered it while he and Sam were on their way to Maine. Rosie's older brother, Gregorio, was still alive. Gregg, who'd become like an older brother to Steve back in the day, had been confined to an elderly home by his children and grandchildren. The place Gregg was staying at was in Maine and only a couple miles from where the shooting took place.

"He's her brother?" Sam looked at Steve, a frown settling on his face.

Steve nodded. "Gregg's a good guy," he said firmly. "He'll probably know something."

"What makes you so sure?"

"He always knows something." Steve smiled slyly. "That's the kind of guy Gregg is."

Sam shrugged. "If you say so, man." There was a hint of skepticism in Sam's voice

 _I'm honestly hoping he does,_ Steve thought.

* * *

The kiss felt like it lasted longer than either of them thought. By the time Rosalie and James pulled apart, they kept their gazes on each other, as if trying to see if either of them found anything in that moment.

Rosalie felt a flicker of something buried deep inside of her, as if it were struggling to become something more.

James felt a wave of some unspecified emotion. He felt like he knew the name of it, he just couldn't find the word.

James' hand lingered on the back of Rosalie's head, tangled in her hair. It felt soft.

"How was that?" she murmured.

Without another word, he kissed her again.

* * *

 _The Angel watched as her target walked out of the restaurant he was in. He was an older looking fellow, but there was still that very dull feeling of familiarity. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew that, in the long run, it wouldn't be important. She needed the information and she needed to get rid of him._

 _Making sure she looked as ordinary as possible, the Angel followed just a couple feet behind him until he reached his car, then she called out his name._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **First off, I am so sorry for the short and weak chapter. I'm on finals week right now and I am so tired. I kid you not, I feel like I haven't slept in a month. But, it's going to be over soon, so hopefully once I am done with finals, I can give you guys longer and better-written chapters. But let me know what you think anyway, OK? That's the important thing.**

 **I own nothing in the 'Marvel' universe. All I own are my characters and the air conditioning in my house.**

 **Guys, my heart broke when I got no reviews from my last update! I was hoping to hear what you guys had to say about that chapter and whatnot. Can you guys at least let me know what you think of this chapter? Please?! Who do you think the Angel's target was in the flashback? Do you think Rosalie and James are starting to remember their feelings for each other?! Am I rushing their memory gaining process? Let me know!**

 **Also, for those of you who wanted me to write a sequel in the 'Civil War' storyline, I have a possible kind of plot I might weave into the CW plot. I'm not entirely sure how it's going to work, but I am working out the details right now. If you guys want some kind of spoiler on what the possible weaving-plot is,** **REVIEW** **! If you guys leave a review—I don't care how many you guys leave for this chapter—chances are I'll drop a little hint in the author's note of the next update. But that's only if you guys review** **—whether it's about what you think of this chapter, how I can improve future updates, what I should put in for future flashback moments, etc., etc., etc.**

 **I digress from my ramblings.**

 **It's getting a bit late, I'm super exhausted, and I don't think I can write anymore [at least for now].**

 **Thanks, guys, for your patience.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

James, after having ended the kiss, had rested his forehead against Rosalie's. That unnamed feeling that was inside him had returned, stronger that time. It was something that was familiar, and while he strained to focus on it, it felt a little harder for him to focus on it.

He let out a sound that was a mix between a whimper and a growl, closing his eyes.

When he felt Rosalie's hand gently touch his cheek, his blue eyes focused on her. She was looking at him with probably the softest expression he'd ever seen on her face. Her honey brown hair hung around her face in a way he couldn't help but think was breathtaking.

"Do you feel it?" she murmured.

He nodded, his nose gently brushing against hers.

Rosalie pursed her lips for a moment before she gave a single nod. Brushing her hand once more against his cheek, they slowly leaned away from each other.

"We'll figure something out," Rosalie murmured, placing a hand on James', her gaze no longer looking hardened. She let out a sigh. "The relocation plan still stands."

James nodded, "I know."

"Good." Rosalie looked at James with a firm expression. "We need to decide where to go."

For a moment, neither of them said anything, just trying to take a moment to think.

Certainly, from what they could recall, there were countless places they could seek refuge in. For Rosalie, she knew areas in Switzerland, Italy, Austria, possibly a secluded area in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, France, maybe a small town in central Portugal, or Holland. Rosalie knew that, without a doubt, she wouldn't be stepping foot in Germany or Russia—that was where she spent most of her time under HYDRA's command. But the more she thought about it, the more she started to realize that some of the countries she was thinking of were close to Germany and Russia; some of them right on the borders.

No doubt James knew places in Europe where they could live, in case they couldn't come to some kind of agreement on Rosalie's choices.

"I might have an idea." Rosalie looked at James, a little surprised at how quickly he answered.

"Where?" she asked.

"Bucharest."

"Romania?" Rosalie looked at James for a moment, as if trying to assess the suggestion. James nodded. Rosalie nodded. "It's a start," she murmured. "It could work."

 **—Mad World** **—**

 _"You can't be serious, right?" Gregorio looked at his little sister skeptically. Rosalie Joy had just announced to her family of her relationship with Bucky, and for the most part, it didn't seem to be going well. Rosalie Joy's father was infuriated, Gregorio was a bit irritated, Danni was hesitant, and Rosalie Joy's mother was taken aback. "James Barnes?" Gregorio scoffed. "He's the last person I thought you'd be with, Rose."_

 _"Just give him a chance," Rosalie Joy exclaimed. "He's a really nice guy, I'm sure you'll like him."_

 _"We were OK with you two being friends," Danni said, holding her son, Charles, on her lap, "but he has a history, Rose. You know this."_

 _Rosalie Joy sighed. "Yes, he was with a lot of girls before," she said, "but if I'm willing to give him a chance, then why can't you guys be OK with that?"_

 _"If I may," Rosalie Joy's mother, Katherine, said. "Rosa, we know he means well, but in my opinion, I thought you would have ended up with someone like Steve."_

 _Rosalie Joy's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Steve's my best friend, right?" she deadpanned._

 _"You said the same about Bucky," Gregg said._

 _"It's different with Steve," Rosalie Joy exclaimed. "I like Steve as a friend."_

 _"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Anthony, their father, barked. "You're a smart girl, Rosalie, but I swear you make the worst choices."_

 _Looking at her family in disbelief, Rosalie Joy tried to comprehend everything. "I know you guys don't really care for him, but come on!" she exclaimed. "I really like Bucky, why can't you guys be a little happy for me?"_

 **—Mad World** **—**

"I remember something," James murmured. He and Rosalie went into the bus station to find out which transit bus would take them to the nearest airport. James let Rosalie do the talking while he hung back and looked around. As far as he could tell, the few people inside the building were just relaxing until they had to leave. From what he could tell, none of them looked dangerous, but that didn't mean they couldn't be.

Rosalie glanced back at James, motioning that they'd discuss it later.

Once they were done in the building, they exited and waited near where their bus would be pulling in. The woman at the desk had told Rosalie the costs of the transits and—luckily—someone had been coming in while they were exiting. Rosalie managed to snag the person's wallet.

"You remembered something." Rosalie looked at James expectantly.

"You had an older brother," James murmured. "I don't know if he's still alive now, but there was something important about him."

"We can't stray from the plan," Rosalie said, shaking her head. "Even if he's still alive, we can't contact him." James' brows furrowed. "If HYDRA were to find out I contacted him—and that's _if_ he's still alive—he'll be dead before we know it," she murmured. "We would've given ourselves away, as well. We can't risk it."

James' gaze lowered.

"It's a good idea, but it wouldn't end well for either of us." Rosalie put a hand on James' shoulder. The one thing that Rosalie found to be the most surprising about her travels with James was that she was starting to realize that she was more than just a weapon—she was actually starting to feel, starting to carefully put together small bits and pieces of what she used to be. She wasn't ready to give that up. "Why did you choose Bucharest?" she asked, changing the subject.

He simply shrugged, though Rosalie had a feeling he wasn't being completely honest.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the wait, but here's the chapter! Let me know what you guys think. Tell me how I can improve, give suggestions [if you've got any], etc., etc., etc.**

 **I own nothing in MCU. All I own are my characters and my cell phone.**

 **So, I mentioned this a chapter or two back [maybe a little further], but I saw on the interwebs [tumblr, for one; I think a couple on Pinterest] a thing where people are giving ideas like this:**

 _What if Bucky [given that he probably has regained enough memories to know who Steve Rogers is and who he is] has been captured by some form of law enforcement, imprisoned, and prosecuted for his crimes as the Winter Soldier. The media's running wild, Steve and Sam are there [Steve to support Bucky, Sam to support Steve], people are looking more into Captain America's relationship with Bucky, people are looking more into Bucky's past as Bucky as well as the Winter Soldier, footage of the "torture"/torture he endured while under HYDRA's command, etc., etc., etc._

 **That got me thinking! What if I wrote a one-shot [or at least a short multi-chapter story] where Rosalie and Bucky were captured, imprisoned, and prosecuted for their crimes while they were with HYDRA. I thought it was an interesting thing for people to think of. Bucky and Rosalie would have enough memories to where they'd know what they did, they'd know who they are, and they'd know who Steve is. If you think it's a good idea, leave a review and let me know.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

"Steve." It had been a surprise to Gregg when he saw Steve Rogers coming in to see him. The elderly man would have occasional visits from his children and some of his grandchildren, but never had he suspected that his younger sister's old friend— _his_ old friend—would be _visiting_ _him_ in an elderly person's home.

An almost sad smile spread across Steve's face. "Hey, Gregg," he said, trying to make his tone light. "This is my friend Sam."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Gregg put out a trembling hand, Sam shook it as carefully as he could.

"Pleasure to meet you," Sam said, smiling a little.

Steve did a careful observation of Gregg. The older man was in a wheelchair, trembling slightly despite the blanket that was draped over his shoulders. There were bags under his green eyes and a tired expression on his face. Gregg's hair had since fallen out, leaving him looking even older. His voice had a slight tremor to it.

Pulling out two chairs from the nearest table in the room, Sam and Steve sat down across from Gregg.

"How've you been?" Steve asked.

"I've been better," he sighed.

"Is Charlotte here?" Steve asked.

Gregg's face seemed to fall. "Charlotte passed years ago," he sighed, the tremor in his voice seeming to worsen. "She had cancer. The doctors couldn't do anything to save her."

"I'm sorry, Gregg," Steve murmured, having taken a moment to realize what Gregg had said.

"It's not your fault." The elderly man tried for a smile. "The kids still come to visit. Sometimes they bring the grandkids, too." Steve nodded. "When I heard you came out of the ice after all these years, I didn't think it was possible. But here you are."

"Here I am." There was a hidden sadness in Steve's voice, one that would've been barely audible if you weren't listening very carefully.

"Why are you here, Steve?" Gregg asked.

"The shooting that happened," he started.

Gregg nodded. "I heard. Word spreads quickly around here," he gave a humorless chuckle. "They won't give the identities on the victims, but...we both know what they were."

"You know?" Sam asked, his brows knitting together.

"Son, after the war ended, I landed a job gathering intel." A wry smile came across Gregg's face. "SHIELD was in its early days back then, even _after_ the war."

Sam threw a look Steve's way.

"He was always one step ahead of everyone when it came to certain things," Steve murmured to his friend. "That's how he landed a job at SHIELD."

Sam nodded slowly.

"Of course, the main reason I chose to join SHIELD was because of Rose." The sadness in Gregg's voice became evident. "We'd been told she was MIA, then after that a letter came in saying she was dead. Not long after that, we heard the news about Bucky from Rebecca." Gregg's gaze lowered. "After what happened to you...I don't know. I thought if I managed to land a job at SHIELD, I'd be helping finish the jobs you all left behind. Turns out I couldn't."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"It was ten years after the war ended," Gregg sighed, his trembling hands wringing anxiously on his lap, "and I'd been working with SHIELD for about six years. I had just finished an important meeting with people who were on SHIELD's radar." He shook his head. "I thought I had been seeing things at first," he murmured. "I didn't want to believe it was real."

"What?" Steve asked.

"After I left the restaurant, where the meeting was, I heard someone call my name." Gregg looked between the two men with an almost defeated expression. "When I turned, I saw...I saw Rosie. I had a little bit to drink, but I wasn't drunk. I thought I was seeing things. She hadn't aged a day—she looked just as young as before the war started." Steve's face paled. "She walked up to me and started talking to me as if we were old friends," Gregg went on, "it was as if she didn't know I was her brother. I couldn't find the words to say anything."

"What did she say?" Sam asked, giving Steve an occasional anxious glance every now and again.

 **—Mad World** **—**

 _"I've heard so much about you, Mr. O'Grady," the Angel exclaimed, keeping the liveliness in her tone. She was throwing pleasant smiles Gregorio's way, trying to keep the mood light and cheerful. Despite all her efforts to keep the mood light, there was a dark hole of dread in the pit of Gregorio's stomach. His sister, his_ _little_ _sister_ _, was chatting him up as if she were talking to a friend she hadn't seen in a few years. The way she was looking at him was all wrong_ _—it was like she was looking at some kind of stranger._

 _It didn't feel like Rosie._

 _"How've you been lately, Mr. O'Grady?" the Angel asked, crossing her arms over her chest._

 _Gregorio's mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing._

 _"Rose?" he whispered. "I...I thought you were dead."_

 _The Angel's eyes flickered with an unidentifiable emotion. "Rose?" she said. "You must have me mistaken with someone else."_

 _Gregorio shook his head. "What happened to you?" he said, his voice steadily raising. "We got a letter saying you died! Mom and Dad, Danni...we all thought you died! Hell, even Bucky's family mourned for you."_

 _The Angel's eyes became stony, as if something else was taking over her._

 _Taking a step back, Gregorio felt a knot of fear in his stomach. She didn't recognize him. She didn't know him._

 _In an instant, the Angel's hand was on Gregorio's shoulder, dangerously close to his neck. "How've you been, Mr. O'Grady?" Her voice held a more obviously forced happiness to it, though it didn't show on her face._

 _"What're you doing?" he whispered shakily._

 _The Angel tilted her head a little to the side. Keeping her hand on Gregorio's neck, she nodded to the passenger's side of the car. Gregorio's eyes flickered to the people around them_ _—none of them seemed all that concerned about what was going on. Occasionally, a person or two would look over to see what was going on, but kept walking, presuming it was two people getting reacquainted._

 _Walking over, Gregg opened the door and the Angel let herself in. Once the door was closed, Gregg went to the driver's side and got in._

 _"Where are we headed, Gregg?" the Angel asked, her voice devoid of emotion._

 _"Where do you want to go?" he asked, his voice trembling. Tears had filled Gregg's eyes. The woman in the passenger seat was not his baby sister. No matter how loud his mind screamed at him, saying she was, she really wasn't. Rosalie Joy wouldn't have hurt a fly if she could help it._

 _The Angel's eyes flickered to Gregg for a moment before she hummed in thought. "I know a place," she said. "Follow my instructions."_

O.O.O.O

 _Once they reached the Angel's destination, she took out a dagger that was concealed under the dress she wore and held it to Gregg's throat. His breath hitched as he watched the woman who was once his sister look at him coldly._

 _"The serum used on Captain Rogers," the Angel said coldly, "tell me what you know on it."_

 _It took several attempts on the Angel's part to try and get_ _anything_ _from Gregorio. He'd stumble over his words, try and act as if he didn't know anything—which, in fact, was true. The day Steve Rogers was given the serum, the man who invented it was killed. No one was able to recreate it, except, somehow HYDRA managed to recreate their own versions of it to make the Winter Soldier and the Angel of Death. But it wasn't good enough. They needed the original serum for another plan they had_ _—HYDRA didn't plan on stopping with just one Winter Soldier and one Angel of Death. If their legacy was going to live on, there had to be more._

 _Captain America's serum combined with the ones HYDRA managed to create would result in an invincible assassin. HYDRA would be able to get complete control._

 _Sighing, the Angel leaned back in her seat. "I want you to drive to your home," she instructed, "but you're going to stop two blocks from your house and let me out first. OK?"_

 _Gregorio nodded, looking confused._

 _"No one can see me get out, understood?" the Angel murmured._

 _Nodding, Gregorio swallowed thickly._

O.O.O.O

 _Gregorio had the car parked two blocks from his house, with it parked far enough away from the neighboring houses that the Angel wouldn't be seen._

 _"Rosie...," Gregorio said._

 _Without any warning, the Angel's hand went to his shoulder again, her fingers touching his skin. He gave a slight wince when he felt a very quick prick, as if he'd been given a shot. A look flashed in the Angel's eyes._

 _Neither of them said anything. The Angel's eyes were emotionless, her face expressionless. Gregorio looked petrified, his heart hammered painfully in his chest._

 _"You've done your part, Gregorio," she murmured, looking at him with almost disinterest, "despite how insignificant you were."_

 **—Mad World** **—**

"She tried to kill you?" Steve looked at Gregorio with disbelief. "Rosie...she's alive...and she tried to kill you?"

Gregorio's face was solemn as he regarded the two men in front of him. "I spent a lot of my time thinking it over," he said, the tremor in his voice intensifying, "thinking if I hallucinated the whole thing. But I didn't. Rosalie—my baby sister—was some kind of..." Gregorio shook his head. "She was different. She wasn't my sister. But I have myself convinced she tried not to kill me."

"She poisoned you," Sam said, sounding confused.

"Yes, she did." Gregorio nodded. "But there was only enough poison in my system to put me in a coma for five months. I had a mild stroke when I was in the coma—nothing too serious. Rosalie poisoned me, but she only gave me enough to put me in a coma."

"You think maybe she remembered you?" Steve asked, his voice quieting.

Gregg shrugged. "She probably did," he said, "at least to an extent. If she didn't remember me at least a _little_ , I'd probably be dead."

"Thank you, Gregg," Steve said softly. "And I'm sorry."

Gregg smiled sadly. "It's not your fault, Steve. Whatever happened to my sister after her disappearance made her into something... Whatever they did to my sister, I don't even think she realizes what she's doing."

* * *

Rosalie unconsciously bit her fingernails as she looked out the window of the transit bus. She and James had been on the bus for almost half an hour in an attempt to make it to an airport. They both agreed to talk in detail the route to Bucharest.

"You used to bite your nails whenever you got nervous," James murmured, his hand nudging her. His gaze had swiveled to look down at her. James had been keeping a close eye on the other passengers, making sure none of them would attempt to try anything.

Rosalie looked up at James, the hand she'd been biting the fingernails of held midair.

Their eyes met and there was that feeling bubbling inside them again.

"It was a bad habit," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.

A small smile formed on her lips.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey-yo, everybody! Sorry for the delay, but here's the chapter. If you've got ideas on how the chapter could be improved, let me know! If you think I portrayed any of Marvel's characters wrong, let me know and I'll fix it as quickly as I can and to the best of my abilities.**

 **Nothing in the MCU is mine! All I own are my characters and the clarinet I play.**

 **As a side note for you kind reviewers, I started a little side-story—it won't be that long** **—involving Rosalie Joy and Bucky. If you're interested in it, give it a go! It's called** _It's Time_ **.**

 **So, as the story progresses, I might have little moments where I'll probably reference other Marvel movies. I might throw in a small mention of Ant-Man or AoU. I feel like I have the rest of the story planned out, but chances are I'll have to do a bit of revising before I can be completely sure about it. If you've got any ideas on how this story could possibly end, don't hesitate to leave a review.**

 **Leave reviews if you've got ideas, suggestions, potential side-plots, potential side character pairings, etc., etc., etc.**

 **While the earlier chapters of this story focused on Rosalie Joy's relationship/marriage to Bucky, I'll be adding in more flashbacks that have to do with her family, since I feel like her relationship with Bucky has been, in a sense, thoroughly established. If you have ideas on how it could be explored more, let me know.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	21. Chapter 21

**21**

 _"Just give him a chance, OK?" Rosalie Joy looked at her family sternly. She'd been dating Bucky for a total of six months, and he was going to meet her family for the first time_ _—again, that is; he'd been acquainted with Rosalie Joy's family from when they were just friends, but with them dating, he was getting to know them all over again_ _. She was aware of how late it was in their relationship to be meeting her family for the first time, especially since Rosalie had already met Bucky's, and they loved her. It had mostly been Bucky's fear of meeting his girlfriend's family—accompanied by her stubborn Irish father, Anthony—that made the delay in the meeting, but she convinced Bucky that it'd be just fine, and made her father promise not to do anything he'd regret._

 _"It'll be just fine," Katherine said, trying to sound reassuring. "You and Bucky seem happy together, that's important."_

 _Rosalie Joy threw a thankful smile her mother's way._

 _"It's going to take a lot more convincing from me," Anthony muttered, his words heavily accented._

 _"Da, come on," Rosalie exclaimed. "He's a nice guy!"_

 _When a knock came from the front door, Rosalie Joy perked up, threw a quick glare her father's way before she hurried to answer the door. Bucky stood at the other end, fiddling with the collar of his shirt before he looked at his girlfriend anxiously._

 _"You look great," she exclaimed, giving him a quick kiss. Rosalie Joy said he didn't have to worry about dressing too over the top for her family, but he went and dressed as casually formal as he could._

 _Letting out a shaky laugh, Bucky grabbed Rosalie Joy's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Can't help but feel a little nervous," he murmured._

 _"You'll do fine." Rosalie squeezed Bucky's, giving him the most reassuring smile she could muster. "I'll be with you the whole time, OK?"_

 _Bucky chuckled, lifting her hand up and kissing her knuckles. "God, what would I do without you?" he murmured._

 _"I have no idea," she giggled. "Now c'mon; let's meet the family!"_

 **—Mad World** **—**

By the time Rosalie and James made it to the airport, they decided to go over the plan to make it to Bucharest. From what they could tell, it'd be a one-fight trip from Maine to their destination, which was something they were thankful for.

"If you have second thoughts about this...," Rosalie murmured, glancing up at James.

James shook his head, looking down at Rosalie with a solemn frown.

"Do you have everything ready?" he mumbled, leaning down a little so they could talk without being overheard. Rosalie nodded. She made sure that not only did she have the right identification for herself and James, but the right amount of money for the flight. He carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, unconsciously giving it a comforting squeeze.

"If we do this, how long do you think it will take until HYDRA finds us?" Rosalie looked up at James, her big hazel eyes looking almost fearful. She didn't want to go back to HYDRA, that much she realized. She remembered so many things—she didn't want to forget. Not again.

The hand that was on her shoulder went to her back, between her shoulder blades. "They won't find us," he murmured. "We'll be fine. I'll protect you."

Rosalie's lips turned up into a small smile. "I think I'll be fine," she murmured, a heat rising on her cheeks. Was she... _blushing_? It was foreign, but familiar at the same time. The smallest hint of a smile came across James' face. "I'll buy us the tickets," she mumbled, her hands tightening on the proper information she held.

Leaning down, James carefully brushed his lips against hers. "I'll be right here."

* * *

"This whole thing is insane," Sam sighed, looking at Steve exhaustedly. They had checked themselves into a hotel for the night. After leaving Gregg, which was a heartbreaking experience for Steve, the two men decided to try and go over as much information as they possibly could on their missing persons.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this," Steve sighed. "I don't want to put you at risk."

Sam rubbed his face, taking a deep, calming breath. "It's OK," he said. "I signed up for this, didn't I?"

Steve didn't respond.

"Look, we got a little more info on your other friend," Sam said, leaning forward a little from where he sat. "She tried poisoning her brother, but couldn't quite get the job done."

Steve nodded wordlessly, his eyes casting downward. In all the things he'd seen in the time since he'd been defrosted, he never expected anything as heart-wrenching as that. Steve had fully expected to die the day he crashed the plane into the ice; but when he was brought out, into a new world he knew absolutely nothing about, he gradually came to accept that he was really alone. He'd have no one to understand what it felt like to be someone out of their time. Until he saw Bucky...

Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair. He knew Peggy was still alive, but she was suffering from Alzheimer's. When Steve had been filled in on what Alzheimer's does to its victims, it felt like that final little piece of his world had finally crumbled away.

"If I knew any better, I'd say they probably left the country by now," Steve sighed, sounding almost defeated.

Sam nodded solemnly. "You have any idea on where they'd go?" he asked.

* * *

James made sure to keep a close eye on Rosalie, but also made sure to inspect every single person surrounding them. He _had_ to make sure he kept not only himself safe, but Rosalie, as well. She was more important to him than he could have ever imagined.

There were moments where he chose to take in every inch of her features. He wasn't doing so in a sexualizing manner, he just wanted to _remember_. His memories were starting to steadily piece themselves together; there were still holes where important ones should be, but the ones he'd gathered so far were good enough for the moment.

Some of the memories were of him and Rosalie; others were of people he was starting to—hesitantly—understand were his family; a good portion of them were of him and Captain America.

His eyes went over the area for a brief moment, quickly inspecting each face that passed by. From what he could tell, they posed no threat. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to be careful.

 _Any of them could be HYDRA agents,_ he thought bitterly.

His fists clenched. Somehow they managed to only run in with HYDRA a small handful of times, but it was still too often in James' opinion. His eyes flickered to where Rosalie was—she was getting close to the front. James' eyes flickered to a woman standing a couple feet away; something about her seemed off. Narrowing his eyes a little, James tensed his muscles, ready to jump in at any sign of movement.

The woman's hands were stuffed in her pant pockets, but occasionally she'd look at Rosalie before glancing around at the other people in the room. She wasn't exactly being _discreet_ on the matter.

James started walking forward, making sure he was going to be between Rosalie and the woman. He was determined to not let anything happen.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey-yo, everybody! Here's the newest chapter! Let me know if there's anything I can do to improve it, OK?**

 **I own nothing in the MCU. All I own are my characters and the headphones I use to listen to my music.**

 **I've decided that, within the next four or five chapters, depending on how I feel on the story's development, I'll be concluding this story. I don't entirely know yet; I feel like maybe I could go a little deeper into Rosalie Joy's and Bucky's backgrounds and memories, but as of right now, I'm still figuring things out.**

 **If you've got any thoughts on the matter, let me know.**

 **Also, as a side note, I'd like to say I hope anyone who celebrated the Fourth of July had a wonderful, and safe, time!**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

James' gaze hadn't left the woman for an instant. She hadn't noticed him—not yet at least—and he was going to make sure she knew that if _one_ thing got out of line, he'd handle it in a heartbeat. He wasn't going to handle anymore setbacks; after _all_ the work he and Rosalie did, he wasn't about to have it all _thrown away_.

The closer he got to the woman, the more intense his gaze became. If looks could truly kill, she'd be dead. The moment her gaze met his, though, she visibly stiffened. James made sure to stand between where she was and where Rosalie was. From what James could tell, Rosalie was just stepping up to purchase their tickets; if he could hold off anything from going on, it would be a _miracle_.

The woman shifted where she stood, her eyes glancing around quickly, anxiously. The look on James' face silently dared her to try something, _any_ thing.

After a solid three minutes of James standing between the woman and where Rosalie was in line, the woman scurried off in the opposite direction; James' gaze followed her the entire time. When she was lost in the crowd, James continued to stare off after her, unmoving. His muscles stiffened when he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. Turning his head just a fraction, he saw Rosalie standing beside him, the neutral expression on her face.

"The flight boards in an hour and a half," she informed him.

James' eyes narrowed just a fraction, his lips pursing.

"What is it?" Rosalie murmured, her brows furrowing.

"There was a woman," he murmured, his voice seeming to lower into a deep growl. "She wasn't too far from here. The way she was looking..."

Rosalie's hand tightened into a comforting squeeze. "I noticed her," she sighed.

James let out a frustrated sigh.

"I didn't want to draw attention to myself or to you," she went on, "but I have easy access to my weapons in case she _did_ try something."

"She still could," he growled.

"She's gone now," Rosalie murmured. "We'll keep a lookout. If nothing serious happens by the time we're boarding the plane, we'll be in the clear. This is our _last chance_ to get away from everything. We shouldn't have to ruin it because of one person."

One of James' hands covered the hand Rosalie had on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"OK," he concluded, a hint of defeat lacing his words. "We'll do that."

* * *

 _Bucky hadn't felt so nervous in such a long time. He could feel the gazes of every single person in Rosalie Joy's family on him, which made his heart feel like it was skipping a beat every time it pounded against his ribs. Bucky's stomach was filled with so many butterflies he felt nauseas._

 _Rosalie Joy was holding his hand, keeping a firm but supportive grip on it._

 _"Uh, you guys know my boyfriend, Bucky," she announced, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. She emphasized boyfriend, something that seemed to hang in the air heavily._

 _Bucky raised his free hand in an awkward wave, smiling anxiously. "Good evening," he said, chuckling slightly._

 _"It's nice to see you, James," Katherine exclaimed, a warm, motherly smile on her face. "Rosie's been planning this whole evening for a while now."_

 _At hearing that, Bucky gave a more genuine chuckle, looking at her with a loving smile. "I can imagine," he said softly._

 _"How've you been, Buck?" Gregorio asked, looking at his sister's boyfriend with silent scrutiny. "It's been a while since we've seen you last."_

 _"Uh, yeah," Bucky exclaimed, awkwardly clearing his throat. "I've been a little busy lately."_

 _"With what, if you don't mind me asking." Anthony's voice came out short and curt._

 _Swallowing thickly, Bucky's gaze went to his girlfriend's father. Anthony was a large man; not in the sense that he was fat, Anthony O'Grady was tall and just a big guy. For most people, Anthony was intimidating._

 _And in that moment, Bucky was really starting to wonder if reintroducing himself to his girlfriend's family was such a good idea._

 **—Mad World** **—**

"So you're thinking it's Ireland?" Sam asked. They were finishing up any discussions that regarded Bucky and Rosie, going over any possible places the two could possibly be thinking of going to to evade detection.

"Rosie's father was Irish," Steve said. "He had a large family; most of them still live in Ireland. I think they either lived in Dublin or somewhere else."

Sam let out a sigh. "I don't know if we can even search all of Europe, let alone here."

Steve nodded. "I know," he sighed. "God, of all things, they had to be assassins."

"At least _you_ know for sure they're alive," Sam exclaimed. "You're not alone anymore."

Steve's face became more solemn. "I wouldn't say that," he said. "Until they remember me..." Steve sighed, shaking his head in an almost defeated manner.

"Don't talk like that," Sam said firmly. "Sounds like you're giving up on them. They don't need that. You don't need that, not after all the trouble you went through for them."

Nodding, Steve didn't say anything.

Sighing, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm heading off for the night," he sighed, standing up where he sat. "So should you; it's late."

Again, Steve nodded wordlessly.

Sam let out a silent sigh as he went to his room. In a sense, it felt more like he was babysitting Steve.

 _Someone's_ _gotta watch him,_ he thought tiredly. _He'd end up getting himself killed if he went on his own._

* * *

Rosalie and James were sitting down, close to where they'd be boarding, but far enough away from anyone else. They weren't really talking, just looking around, observing every person in their surroundings.

People were scurrying with their luggage to catch a flight, others taking a moment to sit down and relax. There were some who were blabbering on their cell phones, or talking to friends and family who were traveling with them.

Rosalie tilted her head a little to the side, finding her mind beginning to wander a bit. She let out a sigh, just getting lost in her thoughts, only snapping out it when she felt James' hand on hers.

His fingers laced through hers, his thumb gently rubbing her hand.

"You looked like you went somewhere," he murmured.

"Do you remember the night we went to the Stark Expo?" she said softly. James looked down at her, his brows coming together slightly. "You were excited to go. I...I had been your wife at that point. You got your papers to go to England..." Rosalie's voice trailed off, making James feel a bubble of concern grow in the pit of his stomach. The look on Rosalie's face was what really got James concerned; she looked like a lost little kid, trying to understand what was going on.

"I remember bits of it," he murmured, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure the rest of it will come to me eventually."

Rosalie nodded wordlessly before looking up at James. "I'm feeling something for you," she murmured, saying it so quietly James had to strain to hear it over the noise of the airport; but when he did hear it, it felt like his heart stopped for a moment. "I want to say it's something similar to love, but...," she said. "I'm still sorting everything out."

"I'm feeling very protective of you," he responded after a moment of stunned silence. James' eyes cast downward, looking at their hands. "You're important to me."

A warmth slowly spread itself across Rosalie's chest.

"Bucharest will be our starting over," James sighed, giving Rosalie's hand another gentle squeeze.

"Finally," Rosalie murmured.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey-yo, everybody! Sorry for the delay, but here's the chapter! Again, I know I waited way too long to put this chapter up, hopefully you guys aren't upset about it.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my characters and the need to find a better job.**

 **For the shifty woman in the beginning of this chapter, I'll mention what happened to her in the next chapter. Don't want you guys thinking I put in some shady character and then wrote her off like it's no big deal.**

 **Rosalie and James are going to Romania; Sam and Steve are still looking for them; HYDRA's been kind of quiet for the most part, but don't think they're not up to something bad. I'll probably have to write Sam and Steve out soon, just because I'm probably going to have Steve get some kind of call from the other Avengers in taking down remaining HYDRA bases for whatever valuable information and items they have [like Loki's Scepter]. Pretty much, it'll be the beginning stages of AoU. As for Sam, he's only helping find Rosalie and James because Steve is, and when Steve's not out looking for his friends, Sam's given a chance to relax until he's needed. I don't know when exactly I'll write those two out, maybe within the next couple chapters. Once Sam and Steve are out, and if Rosalie and James manage to get to Romania without any troubles, I'll probably conclude the story.**

 **I have thought about potential titles for the sequel, but this will be the official one:** _Bad Moon Rising_ **.**

 **Also, for anyone who's interested, I have a small multi-chapter story I'm writing called** _It's Time_ **; it's a very small Rosie/Bucky story.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

The boarding call for Bucharest came, which caused a sense of relief to wash over Rosalie and James. The hour and a half wait seemed to drag on longer than it should have. James made sure to keep an eye out for the woman he saw earlier, but he didn't find her. While it would have been easier to just brush it off as him being paranoid, he knew better than to be so careless. _Any_ one could be associated with HYDRA. Rosalie and himself were in constant danger.

As they made their way to the gate, James' gaze hadn't let up. Rosalie had given him his ticket, trying to usher him to act as normally as possible; but with his growing concern, it was becoming impossible. Rosalie tried easing the tension he was feeling—either by discreetly brushing her hand against his, or just comfortingly rubbing his forearm—but James just couldn't unwind.

By the time their turn came to hand over their tickets, Rosalie discreetly nudged James to catch his attention. Handing over their tickets—with Rosalie having their passports ready, just in case—before they were allowed to go.

"There was no need to worry," Rosalie murmured.

"You're letting your guard down."

"Bucharest is our starting over, remember?" Rosalie threw a sharp look James' way. "I'm just as aware of HYDRA possibly being here as you are, but I'm doing a better job at _hiding_ it."

Glaring down at her, James hunched his shoulders.

"I understand your concerns," Rosalie said, her voice low, "but I doubt—and I hope I'm correct on this—HYDRA would be foolish enough to try anything on a plane."

There may have been some sound logic to Rosalie's claim, but that didn't mean it was 100% true. HYDRA didn't care about the wellbeing of others if it meant getting what they wanted. James knew that; Rosalie knew that, too. If there were HYDRA agents on the plane, then there'd be no way for them to escape, no way for them to protect themselves without hurting or killing the other passengers. Without a doubt, they'd all get arrested for any damage or fatalities that happened. Would HYDRA _really_ do something that reckless just to get back their assassins?

* * *

The woman watched intently as the Winter Soldier and the Angel boarded the plane. She bit her bottom lip, so painfully she almost tasted blood, before she stood up and started toward a more secluded area of the airport—at least, there were less people there. Taking out her cell phone, she quickly typed out a text before sending it, looking back at the gate the two HYDRA assassins went through. They were planning on going to Romania.

In a sense, she almost felt bad for them. _Almost_.

* * *

Steve laid on his bed, looking at the ceiling of the room he was in with slight disinterest. He was so determined to find Rosie and Bucky, but he also felt guilty for dragging Sam through all his troubles. Steve had to keep in mind that Sam had no idea who Rosie and Bucky were to him—well, Sam had a _slight_ idea, but it wasn't enough—and while Bucky had been under the influence of HYDRA during the issues at DC, Steve had to remind himself that Sam probably didn't think to highly of Bucky regardless of his past.

Sam had been shot at, arrested, almost killed more than once, and was dragged into something bigger than he ever imagined.

Bucky had almost killed Sam more than once, and Steve would understand any kind of apprehension Sam felt toward Buck...

Sighing, Steve rubbed his face, trying to clear the overwhelming, scrambled thoughts out of his head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. It was still difficult for Steve to adapt to the new century, but after everything he's experienced, finding out his two best friends were under the control of the enemy seemed to add to his growing confusions and frustrations.

 _You'll figure something out,_ he thought. _Don't get yourself too stressed on this, OK?_

* * *

Rosalie was thankful that herself and Bucky had the outer seats on the plane. Given it was an overnight flight, it meant that a majority of the passengers would be sleeping. With James having the aisle seat, that meant he could at least have a good view of most of the passengers on the flight. Rosalie kept herself awake and aware of her surroundings, paying attention to each passenger, eyeing every host or hostess that came by, watching each passenger that went to the plane's bathroom, and paying close attention to the way the pilots talked. She couldn't allow James to do all the observing; she had to be useful in her own right.

The flight seemed to be going smoothly for the most part. No one acted out of line, and it didn't seem like anyone was doing any suspicious activity.

"You should rest." James' voice was low, almost a whisper.

"And leave you to do all the work?" she murmured, looking up at him. "I'm just as capable as you are."

"I never said you weren't." There was a tightness in his voice. "But you need your strength. Rest."

Looking up at him, Rosalie noticed the bags around his bloodshot eyes. She had to wonder how much sleep he actually got since leaving HYDRA. "You first," she murmured.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked down at her. "No," he hissed, almost growing the answer.

"You need sleep more than I do." She arched a brow at him. "When's the last time you allowed yourself to rest?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does if it means fighting," she whispered. "You'd be of no use to yourself or me if you can't even allow yourself time to rest."

That seemed to strike some kind of chord in James. He found it difficult to sleep; every time he tried, he'd get rattled with nightmares of all the horrors he'd done as the Winter Soldier. He could remember every person he had killed. That was one thing he hated about HYDRA he hated the most—they'd take away his most precious memories, replacing them with all the murders he'd committed over the decades.

"I'll still be right here," Rosalie whispered.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow, it's been a while since I've updated this story! I'm sorry I haven't put up any new chapters lately, I've been a bit distracted by life. Things just started happening and I couldn't seem to find the motivation or inspiration to continue. Hopefully you guys didn't think I abandoned this story or anything. Also, I apologize if this chapter's poorly-written, given it's been a couple months since I've updated last, I am a little rusty. I'd appreciate some help from you guys, if that's OK. But other than that, leave a review on what you think, OK?**

 **Sadly, the MCU isn't mine.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please.**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

The flight was, for the most part, uneventful. There were no obvious signs that any of the passengers—or any of the flight attendants or pilots—were working for HYDRA. But that didn't ease the hyperawareness James and Rosalie were feeling. James was aware of how desperate HYDRA was to get him back; they were willing to do anything for his unconditional return. As for Rosalie, she was just an extension in HYDRA's eyes. She had what it took to be as good as the Soldier, but she wasn't _like_ the Soldier. The Winter Soldier would always be HYDRA's favorite. Not that it mattered to Rosalie anymore. She was as good as dead anyway.

Rosalie was unconsciously aware that her fingers were irritably tapping against her thigh. She was expecting something to happen. She _wanted_ something to happen. But HYDRA couldn't be so stupid as to attack on an airplane; especially full of civilians.

The thought almost made Rosalie roll her eyes. When did HYDRA ever care about the lives of civilians?

"What's wrong?" James' voice snapped Rosalie out of her thoughts.

Shaking her head, Rosalie looked up at James for a brief moment before looking down. "It's nothing," she said. There was a heavy moment of silence. "What do you expect me to say?" she murmured.

"The truth."

"I don't know what to think," Rosalie sighed.

"We'll figure it out when we get there."

"How'll we make it in Bucharest?"

James shrugged. "We'll have to figure something out," he murmured.

Rosalie tried settling into her seat, tried figuring out some sort of solution. She couldn't. Her brain was starting to feel... _frazzled_. For the first time in a long time, she couldn't think a comprehensible thought. She let out a sigh, trying to figure _anything_ out.

"We'll be fine," James murmured. "We've made it this far."

"But what happens if _this_ isn't good enough?" Rosalie felt a sensation rush over her, one she couldn't quite describe. "How long can we live like this?"

"For as long as we can." James put a hand over hers, hoping to bring some sort of unspoken comfort. "We've got each other. We're starting to _remember_. That should be enough."

* * *

Relatively early the next morning, Steve awoke to a phone call. He hardly understood how to use modern technology, even _with_ the help he'd received from those around him. Luckily, Steve had minimal understanding on how to use the smartphone Tony had given him. And when he picked it up, squinting against the light it was giving, he sighed when he saw Tony's name on the screen.

"Hello?" he murmured, hoping he didn't sound _too_ tired.

 _"Sorry to call you so late,"_ Tony sighed, sounding equally tired, _"but this is important stuff."_

"What is it?"

 _"It's HYDRA..."_

That was enough to pique Steve's interest.

* * *

Sleep, that was something Rosalie hardly experienced since reawakening. HYDRA didn't give her the opportunity to _rest_ ; going into cryogenic "sleep" was the closest she'd ever gotten to actual sleep.

So when she was carefully nudged, she almost jolted out of her seat, unconsciously grabbing at the closest weapon.

A hand stopped Rosalie from making anymore moves, which only frightened her even more. Until she was met with James' face. His face remained stoic, trying to ease the situation. "We landed," he murmured, his gaze steadying with hers.

Closing her eyes, Rosalie let out a couple breaths before nodding. James removed his hand from hers, once he was certain she wouldn't cause any harm. "When did we land?" she murmured.

"Not that long ago."

Nodding again, she swallowed thickly before standing up, adjusting her clothes. James stood up as well, keeping Rosalie close to him while they waited for the other passengers to get off.

They had to keep a façade of normalcy, that was their mission. They already made it as far as Bucharest, that part was completed. _Partially_ completed. They only _just_ landed in Bucharest, what they planned to do afterward was still up in the air. However much time they had in Romania would be for deciding what they planned to do.

Once the other passengers had gotten off, Rosalie and James got off as well.

When they made their way through the airport, dodging their way through families and other people, Rosalie and James made it out of the airport. Standing outside for just a moment, James and Rosalie took a moment to take in their surroundings. People were coming and going, various cars were picking up or dropping off individuals. There were some signs in different areas, telling drivers where to go and what to do. Rosalie's brows furrowed. She wasn't that fluent in Romanian.

"Why did you choose here?" Rosalie asked, looking up at James.

"I've been here before," James said, his voice hoarse. "I've done...various stunts here. I have some familiarity with the landscape."

"You remember?"

"They never made me forget."

* * *

Steve had listened to Tony carefully as he told the situation. HYDRA was starting to make more appearances around the globe, and they were causing trouble. People were terrified. They needed help.

 _"News spread quick about what you and Nat did,"_ Tony said, his tone still tired but serious. _"Things are a little more complicated now."_

"But we'll do what we have to."

 _"We always do."_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for not having this chapter up sooner, but I hope this was at least a little bit interesting. I'll be sure to wrap up any lose ends as the chapters progress.**

 **MCU isn't mine.**

 **There's a possibility that I may wrap the story up pretty soon. I don't know how, but I'll try. So if you've got any ideas on how the story could possibly end, let me know, OK? I think suggestions from reviewers are important.**

 **Have a nice New Year. Be safe, be smart.**

 **Leave a kind and helpful review, please!**

 **Thank you.**

 **Susan Strong**


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